Broken Vows, Broken Promises
by Eriana10
Summary: She was a rogue; he was a warrior.  He came to Kirkwall running away from a past that haunted him; she came to find a better life for her family.  They were wrong for each other, so why does it feel so right?  F/Hawke – Cullen – Fenris triangle.
1. Hawke's Regret

_Broken Vows, Broken Promises_

_A/N – Okay, so here's the obligatory preface. I don't own these characters, Bioware does. I'm just slightly obsessed with them. I haven't seen many full-length DA2 Cullen stories, so I thought I'd try my hand at one. I'll try juggling this and my DA:O story through the summer. Let me know what you all think! Rating likely to change later on._

_Summary – She was a rogue; he was a warrior. He came to Kirkwall running away from a past that haunted him; she came to find a better life for her family. They were wrong for each other, so why does it feel so right? F/Hawke – Cullen – Fenris triangle. _

-0-

Sophia Hawke sat on the steps of the docks, staring out over the calm waters at the gloomy silhouette of the Gallows as it loomed just across the harbor. The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the mountains that circled the city, casting their long shadows over the whole Kirkwall. Sophia often came here at twilight to be alone with her thoughts as she stared out at the prison that had housed her sister for the better part of the last two years. The more reasonable part of her mind liked to remind her just how dangerous the docks could be at night; after all, she had made a good deal of coin over the years killing the groups of bandits that prowled the streets. The smug part of her mind took comfort in the twin blades strapped to her back, sure that she could take care of anything that crawled out of the shadows; besides, she worked best in the dark, moving unseen through the back ways of the city. She was probably safer at night than she was in broad daylight. At least at night, no one knew who she was; in the day, everyone recognized her thanks to her recent good fortune. That was probably why she found the moments just before dark soothing and in many ways almost peaceful. During this time of the day, the dock workers had all gone home, and the thugs hadn't crawled up from the holes in which they hid during the day. She could be alone with her thoughts, if only for a little while.

It had been almost two years since the templars had come and taken away her sister, and in those two years, she had never gotten up the nerve to board a boat and cross that harbor to visit her. Two years since she last saw Bethany's sweet face; two years, and she still hadn't recovered from the guilt that plagued her. Her mother often went to the Gallows, as often as the templars allowed, in fact, but Sophia never did. She simply couldn't bring herself to do it. Sitting there, staring out at the darkening towers of the massive prison, Sophia tried, for the thousandth time, to try to reason out why. It wasn't just that she felt guilty for allowing her sister to be taken, though she did, immensely so. There many nights as she would stare out across the harbor that she would allow herself to wonder what would have happened if she had just taken Bethany into the deep roads instead of Anders. Bethany had wanted so desperately to join her; it would have been easy to allow Anders to stay behind to tend to his clinic. However, Sophia wanted the edge Anders' Grey abilities as a Grey Warden would provide, so, as always, her pragmatism won out over her heart. She wasn't thinking about protecting her sister or appeasing her mother; it was about tactics, not emotion, just plain and simple tactics. So in the end, Anders had joined them on expedition while Bethany stayed behind, and because she stayed in Kirkwall, she was discovered and forced into the tower. However, Sophia knew better than to allow herself to venture down that line of thoughts as it would undoubtedly lead to regrets, regrets she could ill afford at the moment. What's done was done, and second-guessing herself wouldn't solve anything, and it certainly wouldn't rid her of her guilt.

However strong her guilt was, though, it wasn't the main emotion that was keeping her from visiting the Gallows. No, it was shame – shame that one some level, she agreed with what the templars were doing. Sophia knew that they had every right to take her sister in; Bethany was an apostate after all, and apostates were causing major problems all over the city. That wasn't to say she agreed with what the templars were doing to mages in the Gallows, but she wasn't blind to the apostate problem either. Sophia was also ashamed that on some level, she was grateful that her sister was in the Gallows and that protecting her was no longer Sophia's responsibility. Shame that she hoped her sister's induction to the Circle of Magi might finally give her and her mother a chance at the normal life. No more living in fear that the templars might barge into their home in the middle of the night, no more sneaking around the chantry for fear that they may be spotted; finally, she and her mother could live like normal people. Those were the feelings that upset Sophia worst of all because it made her feel like a selfish, heartless woman.

The fact that some part of her took even the slightest bit of joy in a situation that made her sister miserable was sickening to Sophia. She loved Bethany with all her heart, but in a way, she had always resented her little sister and the life that they had been forced to lead due to her magical abilities. Sophia hated a life of dodging templars, moving on a moment's notice, never making any friends because they couldn't trust anyone outside the family. Sophia knew it wasn't Bethany's fault, but that didn't stop the resentment from taking root in her teenage heart. Hide Bethany, protect Bethany, don't do that, it won't be good for Bethany; it was exhausting. In the end, it was why she and Carver joined the King's army in Ostagar once they were both of age. It wasn't to protect her homeland; it was to escape from the bitterness that was growing inside her.

It was worse for Carver in a lot of ways. At least Sophia had the benefit of being the eldest and the head of the family after their father died. He felt that she had taken his place as the man of the house, never mind the fact that he had been a mere lad of 12 when the templars killed their father. If that wasn't enough, he felt that both their parents loved Bethany the most because they both seemed to dote on her constantly. She was Father's little mage and Mother's little princess, leaving Carver was overlooked on all sides. It had turned him into a bitter, hard-hearted young man who distanced himself from the whole family. Try as she might, Sophia had never been able to bridge the gap that had grown between them. She had hoped that fighting side by side in the Cailain's army would bring them together, but it had only succeeded driving them further apart as Sophia's unique talents as a rogue and her good looks made her well liked and respected among the King's soldiers. Carver, who was just another sword-bearing warrior, was once again over-looked in favor of his more talented sister.

Sighing, Sophia leaned forward on her knees as she continued to stare out over the Gallows, dreading the eventual walk home. Things hadn't improved the way she had hoped they would. Now, the great divide wasn't just between Sophia and her siblings, but it was between her and her mother as well. Leandra always blamed her for Carver's death, and Bethany's capture only made things worse between them, as her mother placed the blame for that squarely on Sophia's shoulders as well. Their relationship had become so strained of late that Sophia wondered if there was ever any hope of fixing it at all. Buying the mansion in Hightown had helped soften her mother a bit, but Sophia could still see the disappointment in Leandra's eyes every time she looked at her. It had gotten to the point that Sophia couldn't stand to be in the house, so she chose to seek the solitude of the docks rather than endure her mother's cold silence.

Sophia glanced around; night was beginning to fall in earnest around her. She was about to get up and head toward the Hanged Man when she noticed a figure moving toward her in the shadows. Trying to be discreet, she let her hand slide down her leg and began to feel for the dagger that was tucked away in her boot, her fingers itching to reach for the twin blades strapped to her back, but she knew going for them would give her away, resulting in an immediate attack from her stalker. She would only have a few moments to catch this guy before he realized he had been seen. She continued to track his movements, giving the mabari that was sleeping at her feet a quick nudge to warn him of the possible fight. Mathus gave a soft woof as he lifted his massive head and looked around. She had stayed out a bit longer than she had intended to, and now, she would likely have to fight her way out until she made it to the relative safety of the shadows. From the corner of her eye, she watched as the shadow moved closer. It was a man, obviously, dressed in casual clothing but there was a large sword hanging down at this side. She would have to disarm him and dispatch him quickly and hope that he was alone, one man she could handle. She was about to strike when he stepped into the moonlight, and she recognized his face.

"Knight-Captain, Cullen," she said, taking her hand off the hilt of her dagger and giving him a small nod of recognition.

The red-headed templar smiled as he walked over to her. "Lady Hawke," he said as he smiled down at her, "or should I call you Lady Sophia Amell Hawke, proud Scion of the Amell family."

"I guess you could call me that, just don't expect me to answer to it," she said chuckling. "It's just Hawke; at least that's what all my friends call me."

"Just Hawke it is then, and you can just call me Cullen, at least you can when I'm out of my armor. Do you mind if I join you?" he asked.

"It's a free city," Sophia said, gesturing to the step beside her. "For some of us at least," she muttered to herself, glancing over at the templar, a bit puzzled at his presence. She examined him for a moment, trying to figure him out, before turning her gaze back toward the Gallows. "So, what brings you to the mainland without all that heavy armor you usually wear? You're not on some secret mission are you, tracking down dangerous apostates, protecting virgins and kittens, or whatever else you templars do?"

Cullen chucked, "No, nothing as interesting as that, I'm afraid. I'm just on a break of sorts. The Knight-Commander thinks it's a good idea for us to get away from the Gallows every now and then so that we don't get burned out." Hawke glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, believe me; the irony of what I just said is not lost on me. There are many, I'm sure, who would like a break from the Gallows, but in the Commander's defense, I can't freeze people solid with my hands."

"No, but you can cleave someone's head from their shoulders in a single blow. I've seen you do it."

"You do have a point there, but so can you."

Hawke laughed, "I'm not so sure I can do that. I'm more of a sneak up behind them and slit their throat kind of girl; it takes a lot of strength to perform a feat like that. That being said, you really should be more careful about sneaking up on people in the dark, especially people like me; you startle me and you might just lose something important."

Cullen laughed. "Hopefully, I'd be quick enough to block you before I lost anything truly vital. I suppose could say the same about sitting alone out here in the dark, but I guess you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, at least based on what I've seen." He glanced toward the Gallows for a moment before turning his attention back toward her. "So what brings you out here? You're not scouting the Gallows for weaknesses, formulating some kind of escape plan or anything; are you?"

Sophia chuckled, "No, nothing like that. All though, if I was planning on breaking Bethany out, the Knight-Captain is probably the last person I would tell."

"I guess that's true, so what are you doing here then?"

"I just like to come out here and think, that's all. It's quiet; it helps me feel close to my sister, somehow. Besides, breaking Bethany out would just be a futile effort now, right? You guys have a phylactery on her, so you'd be able to track her down quite easily." She leaned back, resting her elbows on the stair behind her. "Keeping her abilities a secret was one thing. Back then, we weren't actively running from the circle, so it wasn't nearly as dangerous. If I broke her out now, it would make us hunted criminals, and there's no way I'd put my mother in that kind of danger." Hawke shook her head and looked up at him. "You know, I had planned to move us out of the city altogether once I got back from the expedition. I thought it would be safer for all of us."

"So, why did you stay?"

"Once you and your men took Bethany, there was really no point to hiding anymore. Besides, it was always her dream to reclaim the estate for our mother; I guess I felt that I owed it to her to see her dreams come true, that one at the very least."

Cullen was quiet for a moment, and Sophia could tell he was mulling over something. "Look, Hawke, I just wanted you to know, I kept my promise to you. I wasn't the one who turned her in. I mean…I know I was there when we took her in, but Meredith didn't find out about her through me."

Hawke glanced over at him. "Really?" Her eyes narrowed, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, I always felt bad about being there when she was taken into custody after I promised you to look the other way when it came to Bethany. I mean, I felt that I owed it to you two after everything you did to help us with the Wilmond thing a while back. You did a lot to help the templars back then; it seemed only fair to look the other way. Besides, Bethany didn't seem like she was a danger."

"A fat lot of good that did for me," she muttered to herself. "So how did the rest of the order find out about her?"

"While you were gone, Bethany healed a little boy in Lowtown. He had fallen and broken his leg pretty badly, and your sister happened to be there."

"So she healed him?" Cullen nodded, and Hawke rolled her eyes, "Of course she healed him. That's so something Bethany would do. Let me guess, there were some city guards or templars nearby who witnessed the whole thing."

Cullen shook his head, "You know, I almost wish it was that. It was the boy's mother." Sophia turned and glanced up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"His mother? After Bethany saved him his mother turned her in?"

Cullen nodded. "She was a poor refugee and needed the money she would get from the reward. No good deed goes un punished, huh?"

Sophia sighed and shook her head. "You know, I wish I could say this surprises me, but it doesn't. The only thing that really did surprise me is that it took someone that long to turn on her. She helped dozens of people; I guess it was only a matter of time. I wonder what took them so long to turn on her."

"If I was to water a guess, I'd say it was you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Who in their right minds would knowingly cross you? I remember the way you looked at me when I realized Bethany was a mage. like you were going to tear my heart out if I tried anything. You can be downright scary, you know?"

Sophia sighed, "So since I wasn't there to intimidate her, the mother turned on her? Well doesn't that do wonders for my guilt?" The templar turned and gave her a funny look. "Never mind, you interrupted my self-loathing about letting her be captured only to provide me with more ammunition. Thanks for that."

"I'm s..sorry," he stuttered as he scrambled to his feet. "I really didn't mean…I didn't know…"

"Ah, it's fine, no one really knows; it's not exactly something I talk about. Speaking of which, I have no idea why I'm unloading on you all of a sudden. Maybe because you're a templar, the nearest other target for my frustrations, I don't know."

"Is that why you haven't been to the Gallows to see her; you've felt guilty?"

Sophia glanced up at him, a bit surprised. A knowing grin crossed her face. "You've noticed that I haven't been to the Gallows? Why ser templar, I do believe you've been keeping tabs on me."

She could see a blush beginning to creep up his neck. "Um, well, not exactly, I mean, yes, in a way. We were just told to keep an eye out for you in case you tried any, you know, ill-advised prison breaks."

Hawke snorted. "Well, don't you know how to stoke a girl's ego? First you make me feel guilty, then almost cheer me up by suggesting you've been looking for me only to point out that you did so only because your boss told you to. Why, my heart's all aflutter."

Sophia glanced over at him and nearly burst out laughing at the sight of his scarlet face. He was a handsome man, even when he was beet red, and in truth, she had actually thought about him several times since she and her party had returned from their expedition. Back before they left for the deep roads, Sophia had always made it a point to talk to the captain whenever their business brought them into the Gallows. She had always told herself it was because she enjoyed hearing someone speak with a Ferelden accent that wasn't tinged with a hint of bitterness, but that was a lie she liked to tell herself. She was a fugitive, hiding her apostate sister from the Chantry, so there was no way she would admit, even to herself, that she found the Knight-Captain even remotely attractive. Not back then, anyway, and now, well too much had happened now.

"Well, since I've thoroughly insulted you, then allow me to do the gentlemanly thing and make amends," the templar said once he managed to get his blushing under control. "I came over to the city to have a few drinks, and I would be honored if you would join me. It is the least I can do."

Sophia thought about it for a moment. "Did you have any place in particular in mind?"

Cullen shrugged, "Not really. I can't say that I'm all that familiar with the taverns around here."

"Well I am, so I accept your offer on one condition. I get to name the place."

"That sounds reasonable," he said, extending a hand to help her to her feet. "So, where are we headed?"

"The Hanged Man, the ale tastes like horse piss and the whiskey is usually watered down, but you can't beat the company anywhere in Kirkwall."

"Ummm, sounds appealing," Cullen said with a grin. He extended his arm to her, and with a smile, she took it. "Lead the way, My Lady."


	2. Cullen's Regret

Cullen looked down at the raven-haired beauty on his arm, cursing himself for his reckless slip of the tongue. What in the Maker's name was he thinking? He couldn't believe he had been so careless, nearly admitting to her that he had been watching for her. It had been two years since he had seen Sophia Hawke, and what does he do the first time he sees her again? Diarrhea of the mouth. Bloody brilliant! Besides, he had only just started to admit to himself that he had been interested in her. For months he had been telling himself that his constant awareness of the beautiful rogue was purely professional. She was harboring at least one apostate; who's to say she wasn't hiding more. Plus, she had made her feelings toward the circle very clear when they had first met. She didn't exactly endorse the wholesale entrapment of mages, and she was unafraid to help then whenever a opportunity arose. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least if Hawke had tried to break her sister out of the tower; after all, she had managed to hide the apostate from the templars for nearly ten years. But he had been deceiving himself. There was more to it than professional interest.

Technically speaking though, he hadn't lied to Hawke when he told her that Meredith had ordered them to watch for her. The Knight Commander had suggested that they keep an eye out for Hawke just in case she tried to free her sister, but it wasn't Meredith's orders that made his heart jump every time a flash of dark hair appeared beneath the Gallows' massive portcullises or create a wave of disappointment when it turned out to be someone other than Hawke. It wasn't her edict that, during the long monotonous hours on patrol, made his mind wander back to the conversations they had while her companions were inspecting the swords and armor at the vendor's stands. No, it had taken him a while to come to terms with it, well over a year in fact, but Cullen had finally forced himself to admit that he was more than a little intrigued by the Ferelden refugee.

Once he realized this, Cullen made a focused effort to determine why exactly this woman had elicited such a response from him. It had been a long time since a woman had peeked his interest, and he had endured so much since then, surely he had changed since then. He had hoped a change of scenery and a new dedication to the chantry would have hardened him to the allure of a pretty face. It was only after he learned her family name that understood his feelings. Only then did he make the connection between Sophia Hawke and the only other woman who had had a similar effect on him, Solona Amell.

Solona, how many nights had he spent thinking about her, picturing her in his mind? She was a beauty beyond compare back in Ferelden's circle. Her long, dark hair seemed to have a life of its own. It would dance and bounce across her back as she would flit through the hallways on her way to and from class and fall lightly across her bright blue eyes when she would cock her head to look up at him. She would always stop and talk to him between her classes, her books cradled against her chest, a shy smile on her face. He loved the sound of her voice, sweet and soft as she talked to him. The sound of her muffled, yet melodic laughter ringing out in the dull silence of the library made his long guard shifts a little less monotonous. She was a vixen without ever intending to be, so sweet and innocent, yet so desirable. She had wormed her way into his heart without even trying

He remembered standing guard over her through her Harrowing, praying fervently to the Maker that she could overpower the demon, praying even harder that should the worst happen that he would have the strength of will to end it quickly. In his nightmares, he still dreamed about those blue eyes opening to reveal a demon lurking within, leaving his hands forever stained with her blood, but fortunately that hadn't happened. She survived and had actually smiled at him when she opened her eyes. That was a good memory because it was one of the few times he was able to simply hold her in his arms without fear. He could still smell the sweet scent of the lavender and jasmine of her soap clinging to him after he carried her back to her bunk; he could still feel her lithe body cradled in his arms.

Unfortunately, though, it was his final happy memory of Solona, and it was often crushed by his most potent memory of her – his final memory of her. She was standing in the middle of a group of staggered templars and was covered in Jowan's blood, a bewildered look on her beautiful face. Earlier that evening, Solona had come to him in tears, frantic about the news that her best friend was being made tranquil. She was terrified that he was going to try something rash, so Cullen had taken her to see the First Enchanter. She was hesitant at first, afraid of what Irving would do to her. "Lona," he could hear himself whispering to her as he gently held her, "I won't let anything happen to you; I promise." He stood outside Irving's office for nearly an hour, listening as she pleaded for Jowan's life, but Irving would hear none of it. In the end, the First Enchanter encouraged Solona to assist Jowan in his escape attempt so that the templars would catch Lilly assisting him.

Against her better judgment, she had complied with Irving's request and helped Jowan escape, and how did Irving repay her? He refused to defend for her when they got caught, so Greagoir had her sent to Aeonar for freeing a blood mage. The last time he saw her, she was being dragged away, her bright blue eyes shining with tears as she looked at him one last time, and all he could think was that he had failed her. She had been his friend, the one bright spot in that dull, lifeless circle. He couldn't bear to imagine her in Aeonar, locked away with all manner of malificar and deranged templars. She was too gentle, too frail to be locked away in a place like that. It was only after she was taken that he realized his feelings for her ran deeper than mere friendship. Her absence had given him sudden clarity; he had loved the mage. Even though it broke every vow he had taken, he had fallen for her, but by the time he realized it, it was too late for him to do anything about it. She was gone, taken from him and leaving him only with haunting memories. Then even those were tainted when the desire demon tortured him for days with him with perverse images of her, the one he loved but could never have.

Cullen tried hard not to let his mind wander back to Kinlock Hold. Even though Uldred's rebellion had changed the way he felt about mages, it couldn't completely erase his feelings for Solona, and that had been a major source of conflict for the templar. He realized that his feelings for her had softened him to other mages, assuming that they were all as good-natured as Solona. He felt differently now. Now, he was much harder on mages, almost to the point that he was too harsh. That, coupled with the guilt he felt for silently allowing her to be taken, plagued him constantly. Deep in his heart, he realized she was probably better off; surely she would have been killed in the horrors of what happened there. Her gentle nature wouldn't have led her to join the blood mages, but she wouldn't have been strong enough to stand against the demons and abominations that slaughtered everyone. She would have been another body littering the hallways. It didn't change the fact, though, that the memories of her haunted every corner of the circle tower. He longed to hear her laughter ringing in the library, the light pitter-patter of her footsteps as she flitted through the halls. In the end, it was why he asked to be transferred to Kirkwall. Every time Cullen looked at the mages who had managed to survive, especially Irving who he felt betrayed the one he loved, his heart burned with hate. He had to get away, to escape the memories. Maybe then, he would find some peace.

It was ironic, then, that it had been Hawke who had caught his eye. He didn't notice the similarities between the two women at first. True, they both had dark hair and the same shade of sapphire eyes, but it was only after her learned that Hawke was also and Amell that he made the connection between the two. But as much as rogue's appearance reminded him of the mage, Hawke wasn't Solona. Dark hair and blue eyes were the only things the two women shared. Where Solona was timid and, at times, completely dependent on others, Hawke was strong and confident, capable of taking care of others as well of herself without a moment's hesitation. Smiling to himself, Cullen he glanced down at the woman on his arm and remembered fondly the first time he met Sophia Hawke.

He had followed Wilmond down to the Wounded Coast, convinced that the young recruit was up to something sinister. He was prepared to use any means necessary to find out what exactly was going on with the young man, and was on the verge of beating the information out of him when Hawke and her crew showed up. Hawke, without a moment's hesitation stormed up to him, demanding an explanation for his behavior. Once he was sufficiently distracted, Wilmond, or at least the demon that was possessing Wilmond, chose to reveal his true nature, spawning a half a dozen shades before he attacked. All Cullen remembered feeling at that was a sense of panic, wondering how he was going to protect these four civilians and neutralize the threat at the same time.

It turned out, hoverer, that Hawke didn't need protection; far from it actually, she managed to take care of herself quite well. In fact, she managed to save him at when a rage demon burst from the ground behind him. Hawke had swooped in out of nowhere, knocking the demon to the side and distracting it long enough for Cullen to get turned around to engage the creature. Then, once the danger had passed, she turned that fierce gaze back on him, almost daring him to make a move against her sister.

Perhaps that was what had made the lasting impression on him, the confident and fiery attitude and the tenacity with which she defended her sister; well, that coupled with the fact that he now associated her with Solona. As a result, he had spent the last two years thinking about this unique woman, and now, when he finally had a chance to see her again, he was screwing it up by unintentionally insulting her. At least she had agreed to get a few drinks with him, maybe he could make it up to her then. And maybe, just maybe spending some time with her would put an end to this strange fascination he seemed to have with her.

"Here we are," she said, jarring the Templar from his thoughts. Cullen glanced up at the building in front of him.

"You mean you actually drink here? Willingly?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She laughed and nodded. "Wow, you're braver than I thought."

"It's actually cleaner on the inside than it looks from out here. We're in Lowtown, remember; it's hard to keep clean down here. Trust me."

"It almost sounds like you miss living down here."

Hawke laughed, "Not in the least, believe me. But all my friends hang out here because the ale is cheap and Varric is a great storyteller." She took his arm and pulled him toward the door. "Trust me, it's safe. I've been drinking here for three years, and I'm still alive. Come on, it'll be fun."

Cullen took a deep breath (regretting it instantly when he nearly choked on the foul air) and followed Hawke into the tavern. His first thought was, "She lied to me." It was just as dirty inside as it was outside. His second thought was amazement at just how popular Hawke seemed to be. The instant she appeared in the doorway, a collective shout filled the room. Hawke laughed and waved to the crowd. "No wonder you like coming here," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, hush," Hawke said, a bright blush creeping up her cheeks. She turned and ordered her marbari to the corner of the entryway before moving into the room. It was obviously a familiar gesture because the dog was already laying there before she even gave the command, sitting where he could see the entire room and keep a careful eye on his mistress.

"Evening Hawke," a busty waitress said, coming up and patting her on the arm. "What can I get for you tonight, sweetie?"

"Nothing for me, but do you think you could get Mathus some water and something to eat," she replied.

"Sure thing, doll. Varrick is back there waiting for you."

"Thanks, Norah." Hawke said, her bright blue eyes scanned the rooms. "Let's go, I see my friends," she said, pointing to a table in the back where a pair of familiar faces, a dwarf and a white-haired elf, were sitting with a dark-haired woman in a very revealing top and the new captain of the guard, Aveline Vallen.

"Hawke," the dwarf said, putting his cards face down in front of him, "thought you were going to skip out on us tonight. You're later than usual."

"Ah Varric, my dearest, like I'd ever skip out on you. Besides, you're still in the hole to me from our last game of diamondback, three sovereigns at least," she said with a grin, grabbing the tankard from in front of him and finishing it off before turning back to Cullen. "There's someone I want you all to meet. Everyone, this is Cullen."

Cullen instantly felt four pairs of eyes focus on him as her friends assessed him. Varric was the only one to speak. The instant Hawke said his name, he raised an eyebrow toward Hawke, a questioning look on his face, "The Knight Captain, huh?"

The dark-haired woman's eyes widened, and she turned to give him a closer look. "So this is the Knight Captain. Very nice. I have to say, Hawke, I thought you were exaggerating, but I suppose I was wrong."

"Shut it, Bella," Hawke said, laughing good-naturedly as she elbowed the other woman in the shoulder, "or I'll tell Varric where you've been hiding your cards."

"Tell him, sweet thing, he's not man enough to go in after them. I don't think he can reach up that high anyway." The tension at the table eased a bit as everyone laughed. "So, Cullen," she said, eyeing him seductively, "why don't you have a seat here while Hawke gets us another round?"

"A few words of warning," Hawke said, leaning down over his shoulder after he sat down. "Don't listen to anything that pirate says," she said pointing at dark-haired beauty beside him, "she lies as easily as she breathes. Also, I'd advise you not to play cards with Varric or Isabella. They cheat."

"Hypocrite, you cheat as much as we do," Isabella purred up at her.

"I have to if I'm going to keep pace with the two of you. Besides, I only cheat when I'm playing against you." She turned back to Cullen. "Just ask Fenris, he's had plenty of experience giving us all his money under the guise of playing cards," Hawke said with a laugh as she turned to head over to the bar. She had taken a few steps before she stopped at Varric's seat. "You seen Daisy tonight?"

"She headed home earlier."

Hawke nodded, "Blondie?"

"Still at work"

"Good, I'll be right back," she said, slapping the dwarf of the back before she began to weave her way through the crowd, stopping to talk to various people on the way.

Cullen watched as Hawke sauntered away. Once she was out of hearing range, Varric leaned over the table and looked up at him. "So, where did she pick you up, Chantry Boy?" Cullen's head jerked over toward the dwarf, unsure what to say. "Come on, now, don't look so surprised. Look around, you can't say she doesn't attract an odd assortment of friends, so where did she find you."

"Um, I found her, actually, down at the docks. She was sitting at the water's edge, staring out at the Gallows."

"Again," Aveline said with a sigh. Around the table, everyone else shook their heads, an assortment of concerned but unsurprised looks on their faces.

"What do you mean again? You all know she's been doing this."

Aveline nodded. "I thought she had stopped though."

Varric shook his head, "No, she's just gotten better at hiding it. Trust me, it's cost me more than a few silvers to keep those thugs off her."

Aveline shook her head. "She's going to get herself killed if she isn't careful; it's dangerous enough down there in broad daylight. You know, she's been going there on her own ever since she got home from the deeproads and found…well, found you there taking her sister away," the guard said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "I wish I knew why she kept going back there; she won't talk to us about it."

"I think it has something to do with her sister, honestly," Cullen said hesitantly. "I think she feels guilty about Bethany, and looking at the Gallows lets her feel close to her sister without having to confront her."

"Then you know, handsome, this could all be remedied if you just let the poor girl go," Isabella said.

"Yeah, that would work wonderfully," Aveline said, rolling her eyes. "Then Hawke and Leanndra could spend the rest of their lives on the run from the rest of the templar order. Hawke is too well known now and everyone knows her sister is a mage."

"Not in Antiva or Rivain, love. They could make a comfortable living there, or she could just join my crew. I could use a good healer."

"And what crew would that be Rivaini," Varric asked, giving her a wink. "You know you have to have a ship before you can assemble a crew."

"Getting a crew together is the easy part, love; I just have to find men willing to serve under me. And believe me, there are more than enough men just dying to be beneath me."

"All that aside," Cullen said, trying to steer the conversation away from the crude turn it was taking, "I worry for her. The docks are dangerous, even for someone as self-sufficient as Hawke."

"Why would you care?" a gruff voice said from across the table. Cullen looked over to see her white-haired elven friend glaring at him, his arms crossed over his chest. Though they had never spoken before now, Cullen recognized the elf instantly. Of all the companions he had seen with Hawke, he was the only one that was always with her, never allowing himself to be more than a few feet from her side.

"She helped us out of a tight spot a while back, and I would hate to see anything happen to her."

"Hawke is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and if she needs help, she has us," the elf said, his green eyes squarely fixed on Cullen. "She doesn't need your help." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Besides, the templars haven't exactly been kind to her over the years, despite the favors she's done for your lot."

"Well, Broody, it's not often that you surprise me," Varric said with a laugh. "I thought you'd agree with what the templars are doing."

"I don't often disagree with the templars, that's true, but it seems to me that there are bigger problems out there than one harmless little healer."

Isabella nearly choked on her drink, "How much have you been drinking, Fenris? I don't think I've ever heard you refer to a mage as helpless."

"And Bethany is the only one I would ever refer to in such a way. She has a good spirit," he rumbled, never taking his eyes from the templar. "So, your presence begs the question; what are you doing here? Is there something you want from her, something you're after, perhaps, something you need her to do?"

"It's nothing like that, I assure you. I saw her alone on the docks; we talked; I asked if she wanted to join me for a few drinks. Simple as that."

"Nothing is ever simple with you lot," Fenris said, finally looking away and toward Hawke as she made her way through the crowd.

"Wow, it looks like I've come back to a fun conversation," Hawke said, putting down the round of drinks before sliding into the booth beside Aveline. "What did I miss?"

"Broody here was just trying to make sure your templar friend felt good and welcome," Varric said, leaning back in his chair.

"So, not the warmest reception then," she said, giving the elf a quick smirk. "Sorry about that, Cullen. Fenris doesn't tend to trust people until they've proven themselves worthy; it's part of his charm." She grinned at the elf who just shook his head in response. "So tell me, Fenris, did you accuse him of being here on some kind of templar mission?"

"Something like that," the elf said, sitting back in his seat. Around the table the others started laughing.

Cullen noticed the mood of the table lift instantly once Hawke returned. Conversation seemed to flow easily around her, and her presence seemed to ease the tension between Cullen and the rest of the group. The only person who didn't seem to warm up to him was Fenris. Every time Cullen glanced over at the elf, he was glaring at him, his green eyes, carefully watching the templar. During Cullen's second tankard of beer, a bard began to play on the other side of the room. He wasn't really paying attention to the songs the bard was singing, it was background noise really, until he played the first few cords of a very familiar Ferelden folk song, one that he remembered singing with his parents growing up. Across the table, Hawke rolled her eyes as every head in the bar turned toward her and several began calling her name.

"No, guys, not tonight, come on." Around the room, several people groaned, and even more began chanting her name.

"Face it Hawke," Varric said, giving her a nudge. "You are our resident Ferelden; it's only right that you lead this one."

"Well, I'm not the only Fereden here tonight." She turned and looked at Cullen. "You know this song right?" Cullen nodded; of course he knew the song. It was sung around every bonfire and in every tavern in Ferelden. "Good, then you're on," she said, getting up and grabbing him by the arm.

"What about Aveline; isn't she Ferelden too?"

"Yeah, but she threatened to arrest us if we tried to force her to sing. We know better than to press her on it." She pulled him to his feet. "Now let's go." When he resisted, she crossed her arms and looked down at him. "Come on, Ser Templar, you wouldn't leave a lady all by herself, now would you?"

Groaning, Cullen got to his feet and joined Hawke beside the bard. This was obviously a familiar routine for Hawke, who took the bard's hand has he helped her up on a stool. "I hope you don't expect me to get up on a stool," he whispered, giving her a worried look.

"Not at all," she said, smiling down at him. "I'm just happy to have someone to sing with for once." The bard began to strum the first few cords of the song of the upbeat song. Taking a deep breath and getting a final reassuring look from Hawke, Cullen started to sing.

_Join me ye good Fereldens, who dearly love your land, _

_Who beat back the Orlesians when they took us in their hand, _

_We stood beside brave Maric to make our country free,_

_So join, honest Fereldens, join in a chorus with me._

_From Calenhad who lead us to first unite as one_

_To those who bled and died to see our freedom won._

_Let's sing to our great heroes, to Loghain brave and strong._

_To Maric and Rowan, who did not fear the Orlesain throng._

_Let us sing of our great treasures and old Ferelden's cheer._

_But most of all the pleasures of stout Ferelden beer._

_Your wine-tippling, dram-sipping Orlesians can retreat,_

_But we beer-drinking Fereldens, we never can be beat._

_So, give a cheer Fereldens, and raise a cup of ale,_

_And should Orlais invade again, we'll harry them to Hell!_

While they were singing, Cullen kept glancing up at Hawke. It was clear that even though she didn't relish being the center of attention, she definitely shined there. Her strong voice carried clearly across the tavern, making the harsh drinking song sound beautiful and melodious, and in spite of himself, Cullen found that he was actually having a good time singing with her. As the bard finished the song, Hawke glanced down at him, flashing him a grateful smile. He bowed to her as the crowd erupted in a general shout.

Taking her hand, Cullen helped her down off the stool. "Thank you, Cullen, you have no idea how much I appreciated that," she said, patting him on the arm. "Come on, let's go get a drink."

Cullen nodded and followed her as she weaved her way over to the bar where the proprietor had two large tankards waiting. "Long live King Alistair," she said, downing hers in a long drink, a sad smile crossing her face.

"What's wrong?"

Hawke looked into her empty cup and shook her head. "I was just thinking about the last time I sang that song with someone. It's been a while."

"Oh, did you and Bethany have to sing it together?" he asked.

"No, Bethany didn't much like coming to the Hanged Man. She wasn't…isn't one to sing in front of a crowd anyway." She sighed. "No, the last time I sang this with another Ferelden was back before the battle of Ostagar."

"You were at Ostagar?"

Hawke nodded, a distant look on her face. "The night before the battle, we were all sitting around drinking, singing, trying so hard to prepare ourselves to head into battle the next day, and that was one of the last songs we sang. It was one of the last times I saw Carver smile."

"Carver?"

"My brother."

Cullen's eyes widened. "I didn't know you have a brother; I thought it was just you and Bethany and your mother."

"Had," Hawke said sadly. "I had a brother. He and Bethany were twins, but he wasn't a mage. He died as we were trying to get mother and Bethany past the darkspawn horde." She shook her head and sat down on the barstool beside her. "We managed to survive the battle of Ostagar, and the two of us could have easily escaped if we didn't have to go back for Mother and Bethany. We waited too long and the horde caught up to us. Carver was killed trying to protect mother from an Ogre. By the time Bethany, Aveline, and I took it down, Carver was gone." Hawke sighed and put her empty tankard down on the bar then ran her fingers through her raven hair. "I think of him every time I sing that song."

"But you sing it all the time, at least judging by the way everyone acted when he started playing the song. So why do you sing it?"

"What am I supposed to do? Tell them that singing what is practically our national song makes me think about my dear dead brother? They wouldn't understand and would probably think me weak. So I just sing the song then drink to my little brother." She sighed. "I never talk to them about Carver for the same reason I never talk about Bethany…and I have no idea why I'm talking about them now." She cocked her head and looked up at him. "How do you do that?"

Cullen blinked in surprise. "Do what?"

"Make me talk about things I never talk about with anyone else. That's twice in one night. Is that some special secret templar ability? I bet that's how you hunt down apostates, right?"

Cullen laughed, "Nope, no secret templar skills at work here. Maybe it's just my charming personality. But trust me, you are the first person to come to me spilling your deepest, darkest secrets. Skills like that, though, would make my job easier, believe me."

Hawke laughed, "Well, whatever it is, thank you. It feels good to talk about it."

"Any time," Cullen replied with a smile. "Now, what do you say we get back to your friends, and you can teach me how to lose at diamondback. I'll even let you take some of my money."

The next few hours passed quickly for Cullen, and in all honesty, he couldn't remember the last time he had had that much fun. Fenris still glared at him, but with Isabella's constant innuendos and Varric's story telling, it was easy to ignore the elf's death stares. He almost couldn't believe it when the bartender rang a bell indicating it was time for last call.

"Cullen," Hawke said, looking over at him as the other patrons began to clear out. "Do you have a place to stay for the night? I mean, I don't think the Gallows ferry runs this late."

"I was going to stay at the chantry; they have bunks for templars who stay in the city."

"Good, because I wouldn't suggest getting a room here, not unless you like varmints in your bed with you," she said.

"Hey!" both Isabella and Varric protested.

Hawke shrugged, "It's true. You've just had your own room here long enough that they've all died out."

"True," Varric said, "Speaking of which, care to join me upstairs for a bit?" Cullen's eyes widened in surprise. Hawke and the dwarf? "I've got some business opportunities I thought you may be interested in."

"Sure, let me say bye to Cullen, and I'll meet you all upstairs," she said, getting up and moving toward the door as the rest of the group made their way toward the stairs. "I'm glad I ran into you tonight," she said once they reached the door. "It was a lot of fun."

"Me too," Cullen said. "And maybe it won't be another two years before we do this again."

Hawke smiled, "I'd like that. Just send me word when you'll be over and we'll work something out."

"Sounds fun." Cullen said with a smile. "Would you like me to wait and walk with you back to Hightown? I don't think you should be walking up there alone."

"I'll be fine. Fenris lives in Hightown too, and he usually walks back with me." Cullen glanced across the nearly empty bar. There stood the elf, leaning against the wall, watching them closely.

"Alright, Hawke, I'll see you later," he said, shaking her hand before making his way into the night. Glancing around the deserted streets, his heart feeling light for the first time in years, the templar realized that Lowtown had never looked so beautiful, and that was when he knew he was in serious trouble.

-0-

Okay, so I've got the ground work set for both of them. Now on to the story. I'll try not to just retell everything that happened in the game (You all already know that story), but there will be some times when in game stuff will be important. Hope you enjoy – let me know what you think!

And thanks to those of you who reviewed and added alerts so far!


	3. Friends?

Cullen was practically whistling to himself as he made his way past the qunari compound and into Lowtown. It had been a few weeks since Cullen had a chance to meet up with Hawke again. His templar duties and an influx of new recruits had kept him rather busy, but to his immense surprise, his duties didn't seem quite as droll and monotonous anymore. If anything, he actually felt, well, happy, for the first time since things started falling apart at the Ferelden Circle, and it didn't take a chantry scholar to figure out the reason behind the shift in his mood. Hawke. Just the memory of the evening spent with her and her friends had completely altered the somewhat dour templar's mood, so much so that one of the bolder members of the order had the audacity to ask him if he had visited the Blooming Rose on his last visit to the city. It was all he could do to keep from blowing up in his fellow templar's face. He managed, however to calm himself before doing anything that might raise the suspicion of the Knight-Commander. The last thing Cullen wanted was for her to get angry and confine him to the Gallows for lashing out at his subordinates; after all, he had a reputation of being a compliant and even keeled templar. So he chose to ignore the taunts, simply glaring at the young templar until he backed down. Now that he was finally free of the Gallows, the memories of Hawke and the anticipation of spending time with her soon propelled him through the city. He couldn't help but remember the way she smiled up at him while they sat together on the docks, the sound of her voice as she sang that ridiculous drinking song, the way she would feel in his arms or beneath him, the cute sounds she would make when they….

Cullen shook his head, surprised by the last thought that had crossed his mind. When exactly had he started thinking about Hawke in those terms? She was a friend right, a fellow Ferelden, someone outside the order that you can have a few drinks with. True she made him smile, but that was just because she was a pleasant, outgoing person. She was just a friend. "Yeah, right," another part of his brain told himself, "a friend that you've thought about nonstop for the past two years, a friend who you were recently fantasizing rather graphically about only a few moments ago, that kind of friend."

Cullen stopped mid-stride. No, there was no way he was developing feelings for Hawke; they'd only been together once outside the confines of the Gallows. True she was pretty, gorgeous in fact, the most gorgeous girl he had seen since he had left Ferelden. Not to mention the fact that she was talented, and all that fighting she did had given her one amazing body. "Sure, buddy, keep telling yourself she's just a friend," the voice in his head taunted. Cullen sighed; maybe he was getting a bit of a crush on the Ferelden rogue. Maker, that was the last thing he needed. She was the sister of a former apostate who she had hidden for years; she was the last person that he should be getting involved with. The Knight Commander would have an absolute fit if she found out. Maybe seeing her like this wasn't such a good idea, he realized as he walked into the Hanged Man.

His hesitations, however, were very short lived; in fact, they were shattered the instant he scanned the bar and saw Hawke. She was sitting at the back with the dwarf, the pirate, and a Dalish elf he didn't recognize, but for some reason, the only thing he really saw was her. Then she glanced up from her hand of cards and saw him, and when her face lit up, his heart skipped a beat. She waved for him to join them before turning her attention back to her hand.

"Just a friend," he muttered under his breath to himself as he grabbed a beer from the bartender, "she's nothing more than a friend." Steeling his resolve, the templar made his way back to the table and slid into the booth across from Hawke and beside Isabella. The three seemed very focused on the card game that was going on.

The instant he sat down, Hawke flashed him another smile before turning her eyes back to her cards. "Alright Bella, bid's to you."

Isabella toyed a moment with one of her stacks of coins before pushing a majority of them into the pile in the middle of the table. Hawke and Varric both sighed and threw their cards face down on the table. "Too rich for my blood," Varric muttered.

"I'm out, too," Hawke seconded. "Merrill?"

The little Dalish girl cocked her head and looked down at her cards. "Well, I don't quite have that much money, but I suppose I could bet my ring to even things out a bit. I think that would make up the difference."

"You sure about that, Daisy?" Varric asked, eyeing the pirate closely.

"Oh, yes I'm sure; I have a rather good hand, I think."

"Oh, come on, Varric; let the girl play the way she wants. She may learn something important," Isabella said, motioning for the girl to add her ring to the pile of coins. Varric and Hawke both sighed and shared a knowing look, but neither said anything else as the two women showed their cards. The poor Dalish girl's face fell the moment she saw the pirate's cards.

"I simply don't understand it; you won again. How is it that you always seem to have better cards than I do?"

Isabella laughed. "Because I cheat, Kitten. Surely you've realized that by now." She reached down and picked up the ring from the top of the pile. "This is something important; is it not, a memento from your clan?" The elf nodded sadly. Isabella grabbed her hand and dropped the ring into her open palm. "Don't ever bet something that you aren't willing to lose or something that you can't do without. Poor Anders made that mistake last week and he ended up walking barefoot back to Darktown."

"Anders?" Cullen thought to himself. "That name sounds familiar. Wasn't there an apostate from Ferelden named Anders who kept escaping?" He glanced over at Hawke who was very purposefully looking the other direction, but he could tell her jaw was clinched. He wondered if they were the same person; after all, Anders wasn't exactly a common name. He thought better of asking, best not to upset Hawke if they were talking about the same person.

"Here," Isabella said, putting a few coins in the elf's hand, "go get us another round."

Merrill smiled and stuttered a quick thank you before scurrying off to the bar. "Well, that was decent of you," Hawke said once the elf was out of sight.

Isabella leaned back and smiled. "I told you she would learn something. Better she learn it from me than from someone who would really take advantage of her."

Varric got up and slid onto the bench beside Hawke. "So you're taking it easy on the elf; What's the deal Rivaini? You take advantage of me all the time."

"True, but you're more than capable of taking care of yourself," the pirate replied with a grin. "She's far too trusting for her own good; better she learn now than learn the hard way."

Hawke laughed, "Bells, if I didn't know better, I'd say I was starting to rub off on you a bit. Next think we know, you'll be rescuing kittens from trees and saving mabari puppies from the deeproads."

"Not likely," Isabella said with a laugh. "You're the one in the puppy saving business, not me, and you won't be dragging me down into the deeproads any time soon. Varric's stories don't exactly paint a pretty picture of it. But I think you're right; I may need to start spending my evenings in the Blooming Rose if you continue to have this kind of impact on me. What kind of pirate just gives her loot back willingly?"

Hawke rolled her eyes and turned her attention toward Cullen, a fact that made his heart jump a bit. "So, Cullen, what's new in the Gallows?"

"Is anything ever new over there?" he said with a sigh. "It's just more of the same, I'm afraid."

"That's a good thing, thought, right?" Hawke pointed out. "I mean, if things get exciting at the Gallows that means blood mages, abominations, and demons are stalking about. So, in a way, more of the same is a good thing for everyone involved."

"So my boredom is a good thing?"

"Exactly," Hawke said, shuffling the deck of cards in front of her. "So are you in this round? I promise I won't let Bella cheat." Isabella raised an eyebrow. "You can play without cheating."

"Fine, but you owe me one."

Hawke passed out the cards as Merrill returned to the table, drinks in hand and Hawke's other elven friend in tow. "Look who I found complaining to Corff about the wine quality…again."

"I wasn't complaining," Fenris said, sliding into the booth beside Hawke. "I was merely pointing out the fact that there are much better wines that are readily available. Then we wouldn't be stuck drinking this horse piss that they call ale."

Hawke glanced over at Cullen, "Our Fenris is a bit of a snob when it comes to wine."

"What can we stay, not everyone is as well stocked as you are, Fenris," Isabella said, licking her lips as she looked over at the elf. "Not that I've had the pleasure of knowing first hand, of course. Tough my services are available any time you decide to remedy that."

Everyone at the table groaned except Merrill. "I don't understand, what do you mean? We've all had wine at Fenris's before; you know he has a good stock of wine…Oh, wait. That was a joke wasn't it? You were talking about his…oh, well, I've got it now, never mind."

Hawke dealt the cards, and after she reminded Varric and Isabella that they were not allowed to cheat, they started to play. Cullen actually began to relax a bit as the game progressed. He had been a bit tense when he first entered since he was having second thoughts about perusing a friendship with Hawke, but after spending just a little while with her and her friends, he had fallen into the easy camaraderie that they seemed to share. For such a miss matched group, they seemed to get along wonderfully well. Perhaps it was because they were all misfits in a way: a shipless pirate, a beardless dwarf, a clanless Dalish, and…well, he wasn't exactly sure how Fenris fit into the picture. It was strange, though, that despite their obvious differences, they were a cohesive group, with Hawke at its center. Maybe that's what he had been longing for, belonging to a group that didn't include other templars. Perhaps he was drawn to Hawke for the same reason that these others had been drawn to her because regardless of your background or situation, when you were around her, you belonged. He had almost convinced himself that that was the case; that was until the card game ended.

"So, Hawke," Varric said, collecting the cards along with his winnings for the evening. "Are we going to have a repeat performance from you and Chantry Boy tonight?"

"Not tonight," she said, leaning back and letting her head rest on the back of the booth. Beside her, Fenris shifted and draped his arm across the back of the booth behind her. "I actually have to get home rather early tonight; Mother is expecting me. Apparently she has decided that now that we live in Hightown, we have to start attending Hightown functions. So I get to spend most of the day tomorrow having a lovely lunch with a bunch of uppity snobby women, pretending to be a happy member of Kirkwall's elite."

"Wait a second, Hawke," Varric said, leaning an elbow on the table. "Pretending to be a member of the upper class means looking like them. Does that mean you will be wearing a dress?"

Hawke glared at him and practically growled. "Yes," she said between clinched teeth, "I suppose I will be wearing a dress."

"Oh, my, what I wouldn't give to see you in a dress," the dwarf howled. "Can we come? Oh, please tell me we can come and see this."

"No, and I swear, if I see any of you at my house tomorrow, there will be consequences," she said, eyeing each of them. "Mother seems to think that putting me into a dress will somehow magically turn me into some shy violet or a prim and proper lady. And she seems to believe that our move to Hightown means that I will suddenly be attracted to the stuffed shirts that live up there."

"What do you mean?" Cullen said, taking a dip of his drink.

"My mother keeps trying to set me up with these noblemen in Hightown. She keeps inviting over her 'friends' who have single sons, and oh, what a surprise, the sons always come too. So I get to spend my evenings trying to engage in small talk with these beyond dull gits while our mothers smile knowingly at each other. As if dinner with my mother isn't awkward enough."

"Awe, Hawke," Varric said, "you aren't attracted to the pampered sect?"

"Maker no, what about those guys would be attractive? You've been to Hightown with me; you've seen them, Orleisan wannabes," Hawke said with an exasperated sigh. "The last thing I need is a guy that I would have to defend we got jumped, which you all know is a distinct possibility in this city. No, no, give me a man who knows how to handle a good long sword any day." She shot a glance over at Isabella, "And I mean that in the most literal sense, so don't you dare turn it around into something dirty."

Isabella put her hands up, a wicked grin on her face, but didn't say anything.

"But that doesn't stop Mother from trying. Now that we have the manor back, her only purpose in life seems to be finding me a husband so she can have grandchildren."

Everyone at the table laughed, everyone except Cullen who found the thought of Hawke married to some nobleman extremely disturbing. He also picked up on something that he found a bit strange. The entire time Hawke was talking, Fenris was lightly stroking her hair. Well, maybe not stroking per say, but playing with it definitely, taking a raven lock, wrapping it around his slender fingers and letting it fall. It was so subtle, Cullen doubted if Hawke had even noticed.

"So Hawke," Isabella said. "Besides avoiding marriage-hungry noblemen, do you have anything else planned for this week? If you don't, I could use your help tracking down a new lead I have on my long lost relic"

"I hope this is better than the last lead," Hawke said with a smile. "I was planning on stopping by the Bone Pit later this week, but other than that, my week is relatively free; that is unless mother plans to arrange another lunch for me. Just let me know when you need me."

"Why would you be going to the Bone Pit?" Cullen asked, looking over at her.

"I own it, well a part of it anyway."

Cullen narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Why would you invest in the Bone Pit? There's always trouble up there; it just seems like it would be a waste of money."

"It would have been if I had actually bought it, but I didn't. My share was given to me when I took care of a little problem for the owner."

Beside her Fenris grunted. "A little problem? Hawke, I hardly think you could classify a dragon as a little problem."

Hawke rolled her eyes, "Oh, come on, it was a little dragon. The one we killed down in the deeproads was much so bigger than that one. Besides, we made a good bit of coin selling the scales off of that thing."

"Yes because that was definitely what I wanted to do after we finally managed to take down that thing," Fenris said with a sigh. "It's dead, now skin it."

"At least I didn't make you skin the one in the deeproads; we just left that one there to rot."

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "Just how many dragons have you killed?"

Hawke glanced over at the elf beside her. "Two, has it just been the two?" Fenris nodded. "Yeah, we've killed two, but like I said, that first one wasn't really that big. It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Really," Varric said, looking up at her, "because that's not the story I heard. In fact, I heard you let loose a rather long stream of expletives and nearly wet yourself when you first saw the thing."

"That's because it almost landed on me. I recovered quite nicely, and once Bethany froze the thing, we made short work of it." Hawke glanced down at the dwarf beside her, "You know not everyone gets to attack from a safe distance. Some of us have to deal with spiked tails and pointy teeth on a regular basis."

"So for killing the dragon, he gave you a share of the profits?" Hawke nodded. "So you do the dirty work, while he just sits back and rakes in the money."

"I'd hardly call it raking in the money," Hawke said, "but I was desperate for coin back then. I would have done just about anything to get my mother out of Lowtown, and if that meant killing a few dragons, well that's what I did. Besides, I make enough from the Bone Pit to keep the manor up and running, so it's been a worthwhile partnership."

Hawke glanced at the window and sighed. "It's getting a bit late. Mother will be expecting me soon, probably hoping to prep me on how she expects me to behave tomorrow." Varric gave her a questioning glance. "Yeah, apparently talking about fighting the darkspawn and giant spiders in the deeproads isn't an appropriate topic for civilized dinner conversation." She glanced over at Fenris, "Are you staying?"

The elf shook his head, "No, I'll walk with you back to Hightown." Quickly, the two said their goodbyes and made their way out into the night. Once the door closed behind them, Isabella sighed and pulled out a small change purse, tossing it across the table to Varric.

"I told you," he said, tucking the coin into his pocket, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Yes, yes I saw it. You're right as usual."

"I'm sorry," Merrill said, looking back and forth between the two rogues, "but I feel like I missed something again."

"Hawke and Mr. Broody Pants," Varric said.

"Oh," the elf said as if she understood, then a confused look crossed her face. "I don't understand, what do you mean? Did something happen while I was gone?"

"No, didn't you see him? He was practically all over her tonight," Isabella said. "The two have been making puppy eyes at each other for two years now; I didn't think either of them would ever make a move."

"He made a move? What kind of move did her make? How did I miss it?"

"I'm with Merrill," Cullen said. "I'm a little lost as to what I messed. He was messing with her hair a bit, but I didn't see anything beyond that."

"Oh, I did notice that, but I had no idea that was a move. Is hair some erogenous zone that I'm simply not aware of?" Merrill asked, putting a hand up to her short hair. "Have I been missing something?"

Isabella laughed, "No, Kitten, you aren't missing anything there. It's the simple fact that he was touching her."

"That's it. You guys think they're together because he was messing with her hair while we were talking?" Cullen asked, resting his elbows on the table. "That seems pretty innocent to me."

"Yes, for you and for most other people, it would be rather innocent, but Fenris doesn't touch anybody, not willingly at least" Isabella pointed out. "His touching her was akin to throwing her on the table and ripping her bodice open."

Hawke and the elf? Cullen wasn't sure how he felt about that. He should be happy for her, right? She was just a friend, right? Shaking his head, he looked back at the two rogues. "So you two were betting on them?"

"Of course, sweet thing, we bet on everything. I didn't think he would ever make a move; Varric disagreed." Isabella turned back to the dwarf. "It's a step, but they are by no means in a relationship. It took him, what, two, three years to actually touch her in public. Nothing real is going to be happening between them anytime soon."

"Care to put some gold down on that?"

"Ten sovereigns that he doesn't make a move in the next two months."

"Deal," Varric said, extending his hand across the table.

As mental images of Hawke and that elf crossed his mind, Cullen felt his stomach clinch as a wave of jealousy passed over him. Yeah, he definitely wanted more than a friendship with Hawke. Now he just had to figure out how to make it happen. Unfortunately, though, if her friends were right, he might already be too late.

-0-

Fenris gave a frustrated grunt as he tossed his book down on the coffee table in front of him. Hawke glanced up at him, giving him a small smile. "What's the problem?"

"This is going nowhere," he said with a growl. "I feel like I've been reading the same page over and over."

Hawke smiled and grabbed the book, moving over onto the couch beside him. "Fenris, I know this can be frustrating, but give it time. Learning to read is not an overnight endeavor; it takes most people years to learn. I mean, look at the progress you've made so far; we've only been doing this a year and you are already on a fourth year reader."

"Yes, I can read a book intended for an eight year old child, fantastic."

Hawke smiled at him, "Is that what the problem is? I'm sorry Fenris, but most books at this level are written for children. I know it can be frustrating, reading things that are obviously for children. I'll look for some that are more interesting; I promise."

Fenris gave a slight smile as he glanced over at Hawke. He wasn't sure why he was getting so frustrated with this. It was a skill like any other, and skills took time to develop, he knew that well. So what about it was so frustrating for him? It wasn't that he minded spending time with Hawke; quite the opposite, really. He relished the time he got to spend alone with her, and these lessons had given him plenty of that so he wasn't exactly ready to see them end. They had given him a chance to see a different side of her; a softer side that she didn't often show in public. He also loved the way she would smile at him when he would read a difficult passage correctly and the way she would patiently coach him through learning new and unfamiliar words. These lessons had been the highlight of his week for the past two years, so why all of a sudden was he feeling so flustered?

He tried to figure out exactly where these feelings were coming from. It had all started when that templar showed up. Never before had he seen Hawke look that way toward anyone other than himself before. Sure, he had seen other men give Hawke looks like the ones Cullen had been giving her, but he had never seen her respond to any of them before. It had stirred up feelings in him that he had never felt before, feelings he had no idea how to handle. It was a strange combination of all consuming jealousy and shame.

Fenris knew he had no claims on Hawke; he wasn't foolish enough to assume that she returned his feelings. But that didn't mean he wanted other men to be near her. He had come to terms with his feelings about her a while ago when he realized that he was drawn to her as the flame draws the moth. Yet, he had resolved to never act on those feelings. There was no way he would ever be what Hawke deserved, no way he'd ever be good enough for her. He was an escaped slave, marked and scared by the chains of his former master, and she deserved more. Maybe that was what was bothering him the most. He had always felt Hawke could do better, but before Cullen entered the picture, there had never been a viable option. Those uppity noblemen her mother pushed on her had never really been an option, not for his Hawke; they could never provide her with what she needed. But this templar, he was different. He was educated, smart, skilled with the blade. He was everything that Hawke needed, and that fact irked Fenris more than he cared to admit.

Hawke opened the book and moved closer to him. Fenris could feel the warmth radiating off of her as her unique smell washed over him. "Here, we'll read this together. I'll read out loud and you can follow along." She glanced up at him through the raven hair that fell over her bright blue eyes before looking down and beginning to read. Fenris knew that he was supposed to be looking at the words on the open page, following along as she read, but he was too captivated by her voice to look down. Instead, his eyes focused on her, watching her eyes dance as they crossed the page, listening to her soothing voice as she read the children's story to him. Internally, he fought an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her.

Fenris wasn't sure how long Hawke had read to him before she turned and looked up at him. "You aren't listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"No, I'm sorry, Hawke; I guess I've been a bit distracted."

Hawke closed the book and turned to look up at him, "No problem, Fenris; we don't have to read if you're not up to it today."

Fenris sighed and got to his feet. "Perhaps I should go, then; I don't want to waste your time."

"Wait, Fenris," Hawke said, reaching out to grab his wrist, but stopping when her fingers brushed his skin. His tattoos flared up at the contact. "Sorry," she said, drawing back and smiling up at him. "I know those are sensitive. You don't have to leave; I don't mind…I like your company. I can have Bodahn send up some wine or something, and we can just spend time together."

"You don't mind."

She smiled and patted the seat beside her, "Of course not, come and sit, and I'll go get something for us to drink."

Fenris settled on the couch while she disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Here you go," she said, pouring him a glass. "It's not exactly up to the quality of your wine stores, but I think it will do."

The elf took the glass and took a long drink as Hawke settled down beside him. "So, how was your lunch today? Did your mother behave herself?"

"Oh, it was awful," Hawke said, taking a long drink herself. "It wasn't so much a lunch as it was a set up. I felt like I was being ambushed. Not only was I forced to wear a dress, but it wasn't even a society lunch. No, it was one of Mother's friends along with the pathetic excuse for a man she called her son, and if that wasn't bad enough, Mother and her friend took off, leaving me to entertain the pretty boy myself."

"So he was a bit boring then?"

"I wish it was that simple," Hawke said, shaking her head. "No, he was rather handsy. I guess he thought the fact that my mother left him alone with me that he had implied permission to start pawing me."

Fenris fought back the desire to growl when he pictured the nobleman putting his hands on his Hawke. "I assume you put him in his place."

"If you mean did I dislocate his shoulder when I twisted his arm behind his back; yeah, I put him in his place," she said with a laugh.

Fenris smiled. "I would expect nothing less from you, Hawke." She grinned up at him as she finished the last of her wine. He wanted so desperately to reach out and touch her; she was right there, all he needed to do was bridge the gap of a few inches that were between them. Just reach out and trace the curling tattoos that framed her eyes, or run his fingers down her soft skin, to feel warmth of her body beneath the cool lyrium in his fingertips. She glanced up at him and his breath caught. "Hawke, I…"

They both jumped a bit when a knock at the front door jarred him from whatever trance he had been in. "I should probably go get that," she said, moving to get up. Fenris panicked a bit and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to his side.

"Let Bodhan get it," he said, staring into her eyes, feeling them pierce his soul. He heard her breath catch as he pulled her down beside him, but there wasn't a hint of apprehension on her face. Bridging the gap between them, he gently reached out, letting his long, slender fingers trace the contours of her face. "Stay with me."

She opened her mouth to answer when Bodhan entered the room. "Messere, there a Ser Cullen here to see you."

This time, Fenris couldn't stop the growl from escaping. Hawke patted him on the arm and rose from the couch, giving him a quick smile. "Send him up, Bodhan, thank you."

Fenris sighed as he also rose to stand beside Hawke; this templar was really starting to annoy him. First he starts making eyes at her in the Hanged Man, and now he's making house calls. To the elf's delight, the templar stopped short at the top of the stairs when he saw Fenris standing there. "Hey Cullen," Hawke said, crossing the room to shake the man's hand. "What brings you here today?"

"Actually, I had a favor I needed to ask of you. Do you mind if we sit?"

"Not at all, please," she said, gesturing to the chairs and couch where she and Fenris had been sitting only a moment ago. Fenris waited until both the humans were seated before moving around the couch to stand behind Hawke, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, waiting for the templar to talk. "So what's this about?"

Cullen shot Fenris a quick look before taking a deep breath. "Well, Hawke, it's like this; I need your help bringing in a mage who just came into her powers."

Hawke looked confused. "Why me; don't you do this kind of thing every day?"

"Yes and no. This one is a special case. You see, the mage in question came into her powers very late. She's already sixteen years old; understandably, the family is rather surprised and very upset. In fact, they made it clear to me today that have no plans of letting her go peacefully."

"I see," Hawke said, leaning back in her chair. "I still don't see how I can help with this. I'd say that there are a lot of families that feel the same way; this can't be a new experience for you."

"I'd like for you to go with me tomorrow when I go to take her in."

"You want me to help you bring in an apostate? What makes you think I'd agree to something like that? Isn't that a bit, I don't know, hypocritical? I mean, I've harbored apostates all my life."

"I know, and that's why I need you to come with me. I need you to talk to this family, see if you can convince them to let her come with us."

"Again," Hawke said, "why would I do that? What if I don't agree with what you're doing? I know I've helped you in the past, but it shouldn't come as a shock that I'd helped just as many apostates."

"I realize that," Cullen admitted, "but you are one of the only people I know who understand just how hard it is to harbor an illegal mage. I just want you to talk to this family, help them see the folly in their ways." Cullen leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Look, their home is surrounded by templars as we speak. All I have to do is say the word, and we go in and take the mage by force. And we all know how that will end up. These people are farmers, not trained fighters; I just want to do my job and collect the mage without hurting anyone."

"She's the first mage from this family?" Cullen nodded. "So she's received absolutely no training?" Another nod. "Maker's Balls! Sorry. Fine I'll go with you."

"No, you're not," Fenris growled behind her. "Not without me anyway."

Hawke turned and looked over her shoulder at the elf. "Fenris, I don't think more swords are the answer if we're trying to get a peaceful solution out of this."

"I disagree," he said, glaring down at her. "There is no way I'm standing idly by while you go to face an untrained mage and her angry family with only him at your side." Fenris glanced up at the templar. "Don't take offence, ser, but I've not seen enough of you in action to feel comfortable just letting her go. I'm sure you believe you can protect her, but Hawke is my friend, and I don't feel comfortable watching her go face an unruly mage without me."

"You don't think you'll be perceived as a threat?" Hawke asked him.

"I don't care if I am; you can tell them I'm your body guard for all I care. Mages always constitute a threat. She could get angry and worked up and fall victim to some demon. Then the two of you would be forced to deal with abominations and whatever it can summon up."

"There would be other templars there."

"Outside, away from the danger. I'm sorry, I must insist on this; if Hawke goes, I go."

"You're right," Hawke said. Fenris glanced down at her surprised. He hadn't honestly expected her to agree so easily, but she had a peculiar smile on her face as she looked up at him. "You're absolutely right. I will help you, but I'm not taking down the mage or her family. I'm only talking to them; nothing more, nothing less. If they don't listen to me; I leave you to do your job."

"Fair enough," Cullen said. "I'll meet you two at the docks first thing in the morning, then." The templar stood up and shook Hawke's hand before heading down the stairs and out of the house. Once the door closed behind him, Hawke turned to face Fenris.

"I should go too, as it seems I have an early morning tomorrow."

"Okay," Hawke said, walking with him to the door. "Meet me here in the morning, then?" Fenris nodded and turned to leave. "And Fenris," Hawke said, stepping up to him and planting a quick soft kiss on his cheek, "thank you for looking out for me." She gave him a quick smile then disappeared back into the manor.

-0-

_I'm changing the timeline a bit on this and putting a few things in the year before the events of Act 2, so the dates are intentional._

_I hope you guys like this so far. I don't plan on making this one quite as long as my other stories, but who knows. Anyway, let me know what you all think!_


	4. A Templar's Favor

Sophia Hawke leaned casually against the outer wall of her Hightown estate, fidgeting with the lightweight leather tunic she was wearing and watching as Manthus made his daily rounds through the Hightown Square, sniffing every corner thoroughly before finding a suitable place to do his morning business. As he was finishing, he lifted his massive head, gave a happy bark, and took off just around the corner. Sophia grinned, assuming that the mabari had seen one of the Aveline's guards who all seemed to have all developed a soft spot for her dog as those on the Hightown patrol always seemed to have a bit of dried beef or a biscuit or two in their pockets. Fighting a yawn, Hawke tried very hard not to think about the favor she was about to do for Cullen, one that she was dreading a great deal more than she cared to admit. However, allowing the dread of her impending task to make her stomach curn was definitely more satisfying than the only other topic that was dominating her mind her mother and the disastrous conversation she and her mother had the previous night. It was safe to say that Leandra was none too pleased when she returned home from lunch with her friend to find out that things had not gone well with Phillipe Du'Base. She was horrified that her daughter had insulted him by dislocating the jerk's shoulder. In fact, she immediately launched into a long tirade, chiding Sophia for once again disgracing her family name by acting so boorishly toward the young nobleman without taking the time to hear Sophia's side of the story.

"Sophia, you have got to start thinking about our future. We are out of the slums, yes, but we have not secured a place here. It's not enough to simply have a home in Hightown, you must be part of the community, and you will never do that if you continue to insult every gentleman who comes calling."

"That pig was no gentleman, Mother; he needed to be put in his place. And if he continues to behave that way around me, I wouldn't hesitate to do it again."

Leandra huffed, "But it is not a lady's duty to put men in their places. You need to at least try to present yourself as a lady, to make yourself a part of civilized society, but no. Instead, you waste you evenings with that group of miscreants you call friends in that disgusting tavern. How do you think that makes me look, Sophia? I have to tell my friends that my daughter, the scion of my family, is more interested in playing cards in Lowtown with a gang of criminals than attending their functions. Not only that, but you continue to debase yourself doing work that is beneath you now."

"Work that put a roof over your head. Work that got you out of Lowtown and back into your childhood home. How do you propose I continue to support you if I don't continue to work?" Sophia snapped, trying hard to keep from shouting at her mother.

"That is why it is so important that you find a good man to support you; then you won't have to debase yourself any longer. You are a lovely girl, there is no reason for you to continue these…these manish behaviors any longer."

"Mother, I am providing for us just fine on my own; I don't need a man to do it for me. And you didn't seem to mind my manish behaviors so much back when you were desperate to get out of Gamlen's hovel or when I was getting you safely out of Ferelden. I did what I had to to protect you and provide for you. This is what I do, Mother, and any man who is gong to be with me will just have to understand that."

Leandra's face hardened. "If only Carver were here, then he could have taken on this responsibility. He could have provided for us."

Sophia groaned in frustration. "Again, Mother? Yes, I know, I failed you; I failed Carver; I failed Bethany. I remember that every single time I draw my daggers without one of them at my back. I don't need you to constantly remind me of my failures, okay?" She threw her hands up in the air. "What do you expect of me? I can't just stop being who I am. You didn't raise me to be a demure socialite living in an affluent quarter of a big city. I didn't grow up in the city; I grew up on the outskirts of Lothering, learning to fight and fend for myself. You and Father raised me to survive, to protect what's dear to me."

"Well," Leandra said as she waved at the empty room. "You have done a magnificent job with that, or were Bethany and Carver simply not dear enough for you? 

Sophia staggered as if she had been struck. She could feel the vengeful retort burning inside her throat, the biting comments just waiting to be hurled at her mother, but, rather than responding, she simply turned and stormed out of the estate. She had wanted desperately to retreat to the tranquility of the docks where she felt the most at peace, but it was too late and the roads were simply too perilous. Instead, she simply retreated to the corner of their small garden, waiting amongst the herbs and vegetables until the light in her mother's room was extinguished to slip back into the house. Deep down she knew her mother was simply taking out her frustrations on her because there was no one else she could lash out against, but that didn't stop the barbs from stinging when she said them. Leandra knew nothing of the guilt Sophia still bore whenever she thought of her two siblings; she was just voicing her own grief over an impossible situation. Still, the venom in her tone and the piercing words had kept Sophia up for most of the night, and now she was about to go and aid the templars in breaking up another family, shattering someone else's dreams.

She wasn't really looking forward to helping Cullen with this particular job. True, she had aided the templars in the past, but helping them take custody of a young mage wasn't exactly a job she would normally take. The only thing that even made her consider it was the fact that she felt sorry for the poor girl and her family. They were likely confused and terrified by what was happening to them, and if her presence could make it even a bit easier for them, then she would do it, despite the fact that it dredged up some painful memories for her.

Sighing, Sophia indulged in a bit of her own self torture, letting her mind wander back to the day that the templars came for Bethany. The memory of that day had replayed over and over again in her head last night, interrupted only occasionally by the memory of the last conversation she had with her mother, and Carver's death. She could remember it clear as day. They had just returned from their successful expedition, but they were a few days late, having been delayed by Bartrend's betrayal. If they had only been home a day or two sooner, Hawke may have been there to save her, but she wasn't. Instead, she walked through the door to Gamlen's hovel to find a party of templars ready to take her sister to the Gallows. Her mother was sobbing in Gamelen's arms, and Varric had gotten a death grip on her arm, afraid that she was try something. But there was nothing she could do; the situation was hopeless from the beginning, so Sophia just stood there and watched them leave. Perhaps that, her inaction in the face of the templars, was what made her mother blame her, but Sophia knew the futility of fighting the templars in cases like this. She had seen it first-hand, after all, when she was only sixteen.

That day had been hard enough on Sophia, and in some way, she had been anticipating it. She had lived her entire like knowing that templars could show up at any time to take her sister, but foreknowledge hadn't exactly made it an easy pill to swallow. Sophia couldn't imagine the devastation she would have felt if she had been blindsided by it. In the end, that was what made her decide to help Cullen and the templars. She wasn't doing it to help the templars, though she considered Cullen a friend. She was doing it so that she could help the poor girl and her family through this. There was no helping her escape, but she could help them adjust.

Manthus' familiar bark jarred her from her contemplations. She looked up to see her mabari bouncing toward her with a familiar elf in tow. Sophia grinned when Fenris strolled into view. She was glad that he was coming with her, though she was surprised by how insistent he had been about it. It was totally unlike him to be that adamant about something. True, the elf had never exactly been shy about voicing his opinions about what they were doing, but he had never been defiant like he was yesterday. Part of her had been a bit offended when he had insisted so strongly on going with her, like he didn't trust her to fend for herself. Then she looked at Fenris and saw the intense look on his face, a look she had never seen on his face before, a look that warmed her to her very core. She saw more than friendly concern behind those enchanting green eyes; she saw the hints of something more, something she had almost given up on ever seeing from him. Something had changed in him over the last few weeks; he had been, for Fenris at least, rather affectionate. Well, maybe affectionate was stretching it a bit, but he had been more attentive at least. It made her wonder what the impetus for his sudden change was.

"Hawke," he said, giving her a nod as he walked up to her, Mathus bouncing happily at his heels.

"Morning, Fenris," she said with a smile. "Care for some breakfast before we head out?" A deviant part of her really hoped he would say yes just so she could parade him in front of her mother for a while, but he shook his head. "Alright, let's head." She turned and looked down at the dog at her feet. "Sorry, buddy, but you need to stay home for this one. Aveline will be down later today to take you to work with some of the guardsmen. Would you like that?" Mathus gave a happy bark and trotted through the door as Hawke held it open for him.

"You're not in your normal armor," Fenris pointed out as they started walking briskly through Hightown.

"No, I don't want to go in there armed. I think it would be best if I looked a bit less intimidating; I'm not trying to coheres them to do anything. I'm just there to talk." She glanced up at him. "Besides, aren't you supposed to be my muscle?"

"I suppose, but I do not like the idea of you going into what may be a hostile environment unarmed."

Sophia grinned. "Who said I was unarmed? Come on now, Fenris, just because I don't have my normal daggers strapped to my back doesn't mean I'm unarmed. You know me better than that."

Fenris nodded, "Now that's more like it. I'm still uneasy about that tunic, though. It doesn't offer a lot of protection."

"Hopefully I won't need it. If they refuse to listen to reason, you and I are gone, and Cullen can take care of the rest. I shouldn't be in any danger on this one."

"So why the hidden daggers then?"

Sophia shrugged. "I guess I feel naked without some kind of blade on me," she said, glancing up at Fenris and grinning to herself when his footsteps faltered just a bit.

Together, the two of them made their way down to the docks where Cullen was waiting for them with a small company of knights behind him. "Thank you again for doing this Hawke," the templar said, motioning for the pair to follow. "The family lives just outside of Lowtown, just beyond the gates of the city. They have a small farm just outside the walls. I don't mean to put undue pressure on you, Hawke, but this is my last chance to convince them to let her go peacefully. Karras has already gotten wind of it and is ready to launch his own party to retrieve the girl, and you know full well how that will end."

Sophia nodded, repressing a chill as she remembered the brutish templar who she had nearly come to blows with only two years before when they were assisting the escaped mages from Starkhaven. She had helped the mages, well, those who hadn't attacked her on sight, to escape from him, distracting him long enough for the mages to make an escape. He hadn't been exactly happy about her presence there, and only Varric's silver tongue had diffused the situation. "I'll do what I can, Captain, but I can't promise anything. This is a big thing you're asking of this family."

"I know, and I wouldn't ask you if there was any other option."

Hawke nodded and followed him up to the door of a run-down house just beyond the city's bounds. It took several minutes for Cullen to convince the family to even let them through the front door, but once he assured them that they were just there to talk, Hawke found herself sitting on a small stool, facing a weary looking family. Cullen had briefed her on the makeup of the family. The mage, a brown headed girl named Marthana Kitrell, was their only daughter. She had three brothers, Simon who was older than the girl and Taylor and Daniel, who were only six. Scanning the room, she saw that all family members were accounted for, taking special note of Simon, who seemed to pose the biggest risk. Hazarding a glance back at Fenris, she saw that his gaze was already fixed on the older brother. Feeling a bit more at ease, she turned her attention to Marthana, who was sitting between her parents, nervously twisting a small, pitiful handkerchief in her tiny hands.

Taking a deep breath, Sophia began. "I wanted to thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Kitrell for letting me come and speak with you today. My name is Sophia Hawke…"

"We know who you are," the father said sternly. "Every Ferelden refugee in Kirkwall knows who you are. We've heard about you and your sister coming over with your mother from Lothering. Which is why we're surprised to see you here helping these templars."

Sophia gave them a small smile. "I'm not here to help the templars; I'm only here to talk. That's all. If you decide to fight them on this, I will walk away. I won't fight with or against you; I am not your enemy here. I'm only here to talk."

"So talk," the older brother snapped, "but I can't see it doing any good. We're not letting them take Marthana into that prison."

"I can understand your feelings about this; believe me, I understand more than most. I was in a similar situation to this two years ago, and I had to make the exact same decision you are now facing. And that's really what I'd like to talk about, the implications of the decision you are about to make. So I'd like to ask you, if I may; what are you plans, then if you don't plan to allow them to take your daughter because you can't stay here? Surely you realize that, right?"

The family exchanged surprised glances. "Well," the father began, "I guess we hadn't really thought of that. I suppose we'll just make a run for it, go into hiding somewhere outside the city."

"How do you plan to escape? Surely you know that your house is under constant guard by the templars. If you try to escape, they will catch you, and they will take Marthana to the Gallows anyway."

"Then we fight our way out," Simon stated, his eyes shining with anger as he glanced over at Cullen.

Sophia sighed, "Simon, may I ask what your occupation is."

He looked back over at her, surprised, "I dunno. I guess you could say I'm a farmer. We all are."

"So, I'd be safe to assume that you have no military training at all?" Simon gave a sheepish nod. "Then how exactly are you going to fight your way out of a full templar company, then, if you have no military training?" Hawke stopped for a moment to give him a moment to think. "I have served in the military, and I make my living fighting when the situation calls for it. But I would not go up against a group of templars if I could avoid it. Those men are trained fighters. They have more discipline and experience than your average city guard, and you are a farmer. You wouldn't stand a chance."

"I could try…"

"I know you would, and your courage is commendable. But it's a death wish." Sophia leaned forward and looked the young man in the eyes. "Simon, have you ever killed a man before?"

The young farmer jumped in surprise, "No, of course not."

"Well, I have," Hawke said frankly. She turned and nodded toward the templar beside her. "And so has Ser Cullen. I've seen him do it, cleave a man's head clear off his shoulders." Simon's eyes went wide as he looked over at the templar who was shifting anxiously on his feet, clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation. "It isn't an easy thing to do, especially if you aren't trained to do it, and you aren't. You and your father going up against these men is a death sentence. The templars don't want to hurt you, my being here is proof of that. But they will defend themselves if you choose to attack, and where would that leave your mother and two younger brothers?"

"But I can't just let them take her," he said, but it was clear he was wavering in his resolve.

Sophia turned back to the parents. "Say you do escape from these templars. What then? You have no idea what it's like to live the life of an apostate. I do, and believe me, it is not an easy life. There is no stability. You spend your life in constant fear that one day the templars will show up to take your daughter away. It's not exactly the kind of life you want for Daniel and Taylor, living in fear, moving anytime you fear there's a whisper of threat. It's not fair to them. My brother came to resent my sister for it, and in a way, I did as well. I wanted nothing more than a normal life, but it was impossible because we had to hide my sister and my father."

"I don't mind making that sacrifice," the father said.

"I know, my mother didn't mind it either, but that didn't make things easier on us as a family." Sophia looked between the two parents. "I didn't want Bethany to end up in a circle, but her being there has made it much easier for me to provide for my mother. There's no more bribing guards or threatening people who have seen her use her magic. My family is safer, and we can all sleep a little easier now that Bethany is in the Gallows. We hate it that she is there; I hate that she is there, but I cannot deny the fact that it has made my life easier. If I had young children, I would never force them to live the life I lived."

Sophia glanced over at Cullen, who glanced down the instant their eyes met. "You are fortunate that Cullen is the templar who has been sent to collect Marthana; he's kind, kinder than most of the templars in the chantry. That isn't always going to be the case; not all templars would give you this kind of opportunity. They would just take her by force and cut down any resistance without a moment's hesitation. Believe me, I've seen it happen."

"But your sister was taken peacefully from your home. You just let them take her."

"I didn't fight the templars for her protection. I've seen what they will do when you put up a struggle. Besides, I wasn't talking about my sister," Sophia said, looking down at her hands resting in her lap. "I was talking about my father; he was an apostate too." She sighed and looked the parents dead in the eye. "When I was sixteen, my father and I were out working in a field behind our family home. We had been working all day, and I was tired and wasn't paying attention to where I was going and stepped in a gopher hole, twisting my ankle pretty bad. I was lucky in the fact that my father was a gifted healer because he was able to fix it in a matter of seconds, but unfortunately, there was a templar patrol in the area. They felt my father's magic and came to investigate. These templars were nothing like Cullen; they didn't give my father a chance to surrender or explain. They saw an apostate, they felt his magic, and they reacted."

Hawke swallowed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to escape. "My father cast only one spell before they hit him, a paralysis spell that he cast on me. I guess he saw how many there were and knew I would try to defend him, and would have probably gotten myself killed in the process, so he used his last spell to immobilize me rather than defend himself. I had to watch helplessly as the templars killed my father; the effects of the spell didn't break until it was too late. It was the single hardest thing I ever had to witness. My father sacrificed his only chance of saving himself to protect me because he didn't want me to die on a templar blade while I was trying to defend him, and I had to watch as it happened." She looked up at Marthana's parents. "I would hate for you to have to endure something like that, but it could be a very real possibility for you."

Marthana's mother looked up at Cullen. "Do those things really happen?"

Cullen nodded. "It's likely in that case that the templars just sensed his magic and didn't stop to see what kind of spell he was casting. We deal with some very dangerous apostates, and a lot of times, if you don't react immediately, you're dead. It's as simple as that."

"There's another real danger with living life as an apostate," Sophia said, turning to Marthana. "As a mage, you will always be tempted by demons who will try to possess you. Now in the circle, you will be trained on how to resist them, but even then, there's always a risk that you will become an abomination. As an untrained mage, you would be at even greater risk because you don't yet know how to control your magic."

"You sister was never in a circle, and she did just fine," Simon said, speaking up for the first time in minutes.

"My sister was never in a circle, that's true, but she was very well trained. My father was a circle mage for a number of years before he escaped and fled to Ferelden with my mother. He trained my sister on how to control her magic." She looked back at the parents, "But he also trained me. He taught me how to tell if he or my sister became possessed and what to do should that happen."

"What do you mean?" the mother asked wearily.

"He told me to go directly to the nearest chantry and tell the templars so that they would come and kill him. Over and over he drilled into me just how dangerous he would be and that I was to, under no circumstances, try to do it myself. My father made it clear to me just what could happen should he become an abomination; it was something I lived in terror of for my entire life. It is also something I had to watch Bethany for, knowing full well that the day might come when I was forced to kill my own sister because she had become something twisted."

Sophia leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, "Look, I know that letting Marthana go to the Gallows is not the most pleasant option, but for everyone involved, it is the safest."

"But you've helped apostates escape in the past. Why won't you help us?" Simon said.

"I've helped mages in the past, that's true, but they all had some kind of training. They knew how to control their magic, your sister does not, not yet at least. The circle will teach her how to do that." Hawke sighed, "If I helped you now, I would be going against everything I believed. Mages need to be trained; the power they possess is too great to simply let them go without some training."

"We'll find someone to teach her, like your father trained your sister."

"You'll be hard pressed to find an apostate willing to take on an apprentice. Most apostates don't use magic unless the situation is very dire; they want to avoid detection as much as possible. Training a young mage would attract a lot of attention. My father was willing to risk it to protect his daughter, but many apostates won't take that risk for a stranger."

"Well what would you have us do then," Simon said, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Just what I did. I didn't fight the templars when they came for Bethany because I knew it was too late to save her. I never killed templars to protect my family, my father didn't either; we just ran. It's too late for you to run, and you don't have the skills or the numbers to fight them. I know it's hard, and I know it's not ideal. Believe me, if there was any way to get Bethany back, I would in a heartbeat, but it's futile to swim against the tide. It's not the happiest solution; I know, but it's what's best for everyone."

"You're right," Marthana said, her voice shaking and weak. Simon opened his mouth, ready to protest, but she put a hand up to stop him. "No, Simon, I know what you're going to say, but Hawke is right. My being here puts you all in danger, and I just can't do that to you all. I appreciate that you are all willing to give up everything we've managed to build here, but I can't let you do that. It wouldn't be fair to the twins." She looked up at Cullen, her head lifted in resolve. "I'll go with you. Thank you for giving us a chance to say goodbye." She turned back to Sophia, "And thank you, Hawke. I would have never had the strength to do this if it wasn't for you."

Hawke smiled and gave her a small nod. She was about to say something further when she heard a loud, angry scream behind her and saw a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. Everything seemed to move at once, Fenris moving toward her, Cullen shouting over the loud zing of his sword leaving its scabbard. Before she could get herself turned around, a pair of daggers sank into her back, just beneath her shoulder blades. Her breath caught as the searing pain washed over her, and the world around her began to grow fuzzy. Her last conscious thought was, "Maybe I should have worn my armor after all." Then the world was dark.

-0-

Five steps. That was the distance between him and Hawke. It was further away from her than Fenris would have liked to have been, but it put him two steps closer to Simon, the biggest threat in the room. From the moment he entered the room, the former bodyguard had been extremely wary of the mage's older brother. The young man was clearly angry and wasn't letting his sister go without a fight, so Fenris put himself squarely between Simon and Hawke. It put him further from Hawke than he would have normally allowed in a situation like this, but he could be at her side in five steps. Five steps, it seemed, was too far away.

He had stood there the entire time, listening to Hawke, but rarely taking his eyes of the brother. Simon occasionally shot the elf a nervous glance that made the lyrium in Fenris' skin hum with anticipation, but the human always looked away too quickly. He tried to focus only on the human, but he found himself increasingly distracted by Hawke's story. Over the two years he had known her, she would only mention her father occasionally, but she never talked about what had happened to him. He had always assumed that the mage had simply died or been taken into custody by the templars, but he never imagined this. He tried to imagine a sixteen-year-old Hawke, watching helplessly as her father was slaughtered before her eyes. It was the only time he had taken his eyes from the man in front of him, glancing over at Hawke as she recounted her father's death. The urge to cross those five steps and take her in his arms was nearly over whelming. He had never seen that kind of emotion on her face before; she was always so strong, so composed when she was in public, even when the templars came for Bethany. He felt a sting of jealousy that she would be so open with these strangers, letting them see a part of her that he had never seen.

Fenris was still mulling over this thought when the girl agreed to go with the templars, and Fernis immediately tensed, waiting for the brother to react. He was so focused on the brother that he almost missed the sudden movement from behind them. From the closet, a young man emerged from the shadows, a pair of daggers lifted above his head, headed straight for Hawke.

Five steps away, five steps too far. He moved without thinking, drawing his sword in the first step, securing it in both hands in step two, drawing it back over his shoulder in step three. The fourth step brought him within striking range, but it was too late. The daggers were already embedded in Hawke's back, her blood already staining the thin leather tunic she wore. The man's head was on the ground by the time Fenris finished the fifth step, but it was too late, he had been too far away. It was over in only a few seconds, but those seconds seemed to stretch out for an eternity.

Fenris was on the ground at Hawke's side before the unknown man's body hit the floor. Cullen was there only a moment later. Luckily, Fenris had a small supply of health poultices and bandages and a few of Anders' potions with him. Working quickly, he tore open the back of her shirt, removed the daggers, and bandaged the poultices over the pair of wounds before turning her over on her back. Her face was already to pale and her breathing was clearly labored. "Hawke, I need you to drink this, please," he said, holding a vile to her lips.

She took the potion, swallowing it with some difficulty, coughing as she finished it. Her blue eyes rolled up, looking right through him at something far away in the distance. "Stay with me Hawke," he growled.

"Carver," she whispered before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp in his arms.

"No, Hawke, stay with me, stay awake," he pleaded. Placing her back on the ground, he rolled her over to inspect the bandages which were beginning to soak through as she continued to bleed..

"She's bleeding pretty heavily. We've got to get her to the Gallows," Cullen said lifting her up, cradling her against him. "The healing mages will be able to take care of her."

Fenris looked down at the red blood on his hands. "It will take us over an hour to get to the Gallows," Fenris looked up at the templar. "She doesn't have an hour, but I know someone who can help if you can be discrete."

Cullen nodded, "Whatever it takes; just save her."

"Follow me," he said, leaving the templar reinforcements to deal with the Kitrell family. The Knight Captain followed, carrying a quickly fading Hawke in his armored arms.

-0-

_Hey everyone. Thanks for sticking with me. I've been out of town and away from my computer for over a week, but hopefully the next chapter will be ready soon. Let me know what you all think; reviews help keep me on the right track!_


	5. Quid Pro Quo

Darktown, what in the name of the Maker were they doing heading into Darktown? Cullen looked down at the woman lying limply in his arms. Hawke was fading quickly, there was no doubt about that. Her breaths were coming in short, sporadic gasps, and the color was slowly draining from her face. She didn't have much longer; which was why the templar was so confused by their apparent destination. Why was the elf leading him into the darkest, dirtiest slums of Kirkwall? Hawke needed help now. Who could help them here? When he had originally protested heading for the Gallows, Cullen had agreed with him. It would have taken them far too long to make it to the mages, and Hawke would have died in his arms. But their current location didn't seem much better to Cullen. Why would someone capable of saving Hawke be living in the underbelly of the city?

"Fenris, are sure you know where we're going?" Cullen called out. The elf shot him a furious look, but chose not to reply. Instead, the sleek warrior continued pushing through the crowds, clearing the way for him and Hawke. Hawke began coughing violently, splattering the templar's face with blood and jerking violently in his arms before, once again, going completely limp. The elf looked again over his shoulders, anxiety clearly showing on his stern face.

"I know a healer here in Darktown," he muttered. "Hurry, we are nearly there."

"A healer?" Cullen barked. "Fenris, we need more than just someone who passes out elfroot potions and bandages. She needs healing magic and fast."

"Do you think I am blind to that, templar," he hissed, never faltering in his progress. "Do you think I am deaf to her struggling, to her pain? I know what she needs; now follow quickly; his clinic is just over there."

Cullen nodded and adjusted the woman in his arms as he hurried behind the elf. Fenris charged ahead of him, throwing open the door without a moment's hesitation and charging into the dilapidated building. Cullen followed close behind. In the back of the small clinic, a blonde headed man was lounging, his feet resting on a table in front of him as he leafed through an old tome. The sound of the door being thrown open seemed to startle him because he nearly toppled over before jumping anxiously to his feet. Cullen recognized him the moment he met the man's eyes. How could he not? After all, Cullen had helped capture the man before him on a number of occasions when he was back at the Denerim circle. What was he doing in Kirkwall? The last he'd heard, the mage was in Amaranthine with the Grey Wardens.

"Anders," Fenris barked, crossing the room in a matter of seconds.

The mage glanced nervously at Cullen before turning back to the elf. "Bloody hell, Fenris; I know you don't like me, but the blighted Knight Captain," he hissed furiously. "Why not bring Meredith herself down here? Or better yet, the Divine?"

"It's Hawke," the elf said gravely gesturing back at Cullen, and instantly the mage's expression changed. He looked back to Cullen, realizing for the first time that he was holding the young woman in his arms.

"Merciful Andraste," Anders muttered, rushing immediately to the templar's side, his hands glowing blue with healing magic. Cullen felt the veil strain as the warmth of Ander's magic flowed around him. "Put her on the table, quickly," he said, bring them toward the back of the clinic. Cullen carefully placed the young woman on the table then stepped back to watch the mage. His brows knitted in concentration, Anders began muttering to himself as his hands moved over Hawke. "Deep lacerations, punctured the left lung, barely missed the spinal column, but may have nicked an artery. Tissue damage to the muscles, but a clean cut, no tearing." He rolled her over onto her stomach, tearing away the dressings the two warriors had hastily applied. Cullen looked at the blood soaked linen bandages as the hit the floor at his feet for a moment before hazarding a glance up at Hawke.

Fresh blood was still pouring from the deep wounds that marred her otherwise flawless back. Anders was working furiously, using both potions and magic to help stop the bleeding. "Fenris, quickly, bring me that tray," he said, nodding toward something across the room, but never taking his eyes off of Hawke's back. The elf was back by his side faster than Cullen could have imagined possible. "Thank you, now out, both of you."

Fenris began to protest, "But I can help, I can…"

"You will only be in my way. Now, go, both of you; I need to concentrate. I will call you if I need you." The elf's shoulders dropped as he made his way out of the room, sparing Hawke one final glance before letting the curtain fall behind him. They had gotten her into the right hands; now all they could do is wait.

So that's what they did. Cullen sat down in the first chair he found and didn't move, resting his elbows on his knees as he alternated between staring at the blood on his hands and staring at the floor between his feet. He could feel the veil straining as the mage pulled with all his strength, pouring every bit of himself into healing Hawke. After a while, Cullen felt the mage's strength begin to falter, and he heard a vile shatter as the sweet tang of lyrium filtered into the room. Three times this happened. Anders drained his mana to the point of exhaustion, over and over. Cullen felt absolutely helpless, sitting there staring at his hands while the mage worked furiously to save his friend. Fenris, on the other hand, never stopped moving. The elf paced the entire length of the room like some caged wolf. Cullen tried to say something to him, hoping to calm his nerves a bit, but the furious glare that the templar received stopped any attempt at communication. It was clear from the look Fenris gave him that the elf wasn't just blaming himself for Hawke's condition. Cullen didn't blame him on that front. It was his fault entirely that Hawke had been injured; he hadn't been vigilant enough in securing the residence before bringing a civilian into danger. He just hoped that the mage would help her pull through so that he would have a chance to apologize.

Cullen wasn't exactly sure how her friends managed to find out, considering he and Fenris were the only ones who knew she had been injured and neither had stirred from the clinic, but within the hour, all her companions had descended on Anders' clinic. Aveline was the first to arrive with Mathus, Hawke's manari, right on her heels. Fenris had to catch the dog to keep him from barreling into the healing room. Cullen was glad Fenris was there to stop him; he was pretty sure the dog would have torn his arm off if he stood between him and his mistress.

"Hold up there, boy; Anders is taking care of her for us, but we need to wait out here." The dog gave a frustrated whine as he looked up at the curtain that was separating them from Hawke and Anders, but finally settled down in front if the curtain, his head resting on his massive paws. "You brought the dog?" Fenris asked once he had settled down.

"He was with me in the barracks when I found out; I couldn't exactly dump him back at the estate after he heard Hawke was injured. I'm amazed he actually stayed with me."

"How did you find out anyway?"

"My patrol in Lowtown saw you bringing her in and came back to tell me straight away. He knew Hawke and I are friends, so he figured I'd want to know." Aveline glanced back toward the examination area. "How bad is she?"

A pained look crossed the elf's face, and he looked away. Cullen answered instead. "It looked bad at first, but Anders has been really pushing himself in there. I can feel the veil shifting around him as he heals her, and that's a good sign. It means whatever he's doing is working."

"Either that or he's just too upset to know when to stop," Fenris muttered as he resumed his pacing. Aveline moved across the room to stand by the doorway of the clinic, her arms crossed over her chest as she joined their vigil.

The rest of Hawke's crew arrived half an hour or so later as Aveline stepped out to speak with one of her guardsmen who had showed up at the clinic door. Merril didn't linger, but practically ran into the back room with Anders the instant she walked into the building. "She's Dalish," Varric said casually. "She knows a lot about herbs and what not." The dwarf sighed and took a seat across from Cullen with Isabella. "So would someone mind telling me what happened?"

"Hawke was helping me out with the family of a new mage, and while we were talking, she was attacked from behind."

"By whom?" Isabella asked. "The Hawke I know would never let someone get in behind her to attack like that. How did she ever allow that?"

Cullen shook his head, "I'm not exactly sure to tell you the truth. I thought the whole family was accounted for."

"It was the girl's fiancé," Aveline said from the doorway. "Apparently, she was engaged to a boy who lived next door. They were planning to marry at the end of the year. According to the girl's mother, the boy was devastated when they found out she was a mage. His family told my guardsmen that he planned to sneak her out of Kirkwall tonight; whether she was aware of his plans is unclear. My guards who were investigating the incident, say the young man managed to sneak into the house and hide in a cupboard before you all got there. When the girl agreed to go to the circle, apparently he snapped and attacked Hawke."

"I was too far away," Fenris said, almost to himself, unable to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. "I couldn't get to her in time. I was too worried about the mage's brother and wasn't keeping a close enough eye on her."

"Hey Broody, it wasn't your fault," Varric said, looking up at the elf. "I'm sure you did everything you could. There was no way you could have…"

"Wasn't my fault?" Fenris growled, turning to glare at the dwarf. "Wasn't my fault? She trusted me, Varric; she went into that house unarmed because she didn't want to look threatening, so she trusted me to protect her. And now, look at her." Cullen's eyes widened in shock as the white lines that ran down the elf's arms began to glow, pulsing with energy. "I was too focused on the obvious threat that I neglected to watch her, and now…now…" Fenris couldn't finish his last thought. Instead, he grabbed the nearest stool and hurled it against the clinic wall, smashing it into a hundred pieces as he roared in anger. Everyone took a step away from the elf, afraid of what he might do.

"Fenris would you mind not destroying my clinic just now," Anders said, surprising everyone with his sudden appearance. Cullen's breath caught; he had been so distracted by Fenris' outburst that he had failed to notice the fact that the veil had closed completely. For better or worse, the mage had stopped healing Hawke.

"Well?" he asked tentatively, voicing the question on everyone's mind.

"She's stable, for now," Anders replied, wiping his hands on a cloth. A collective sigh of relief filled the room. "I was able to get the bleeding stopped and repair most of the damage, but she's not out of the woods yet."

"What do you mean?" Fenris asked, the glowing lines on his skin starting to fade.

"Well, those puncture wounds went really deep, and I was able to get them closed up, but she's lost a lot of blood. Her attacker also managed to puncture both of her lungs; that's why she was having a difficult time breathing when you brought her in. I've managed to stop the bleeding there, but there's still a chance those wounds might tear, causing her lungs to start to fill with blood, making it hard for her to breathe. She could also form a clot which would also make it difficult to breathe."

"Can't you fix that?"

"I've done all I can right now. Her body needs to rest a bit before I start again, and I can't take another lyrium potion without poisoning myself. I'll keep her here for now so that I can keep an eye on her."

"Is she awake?" Fenris asked, almost pleaded. "Can we see her?"

Anders glanced over his shoulder into the back room. "I'm keeping her asleep so that she won't move and reopen any of her injuries, but you can see her. Just don't move her; Merril is watching her right now."

Fenris didn't wait for Anders to finish talking; he immediately disappeared back into the room. Everyone else got up to follow, and suddenly, Cullen felt like an outsider. These were her friends; the people who had been at her side for three years. He was just an acquaintance, an acquaintance who had put her in harm's way. He didn't belong. Sighing, he got to his feet and was about to head back to the Gallows when the blonde mage stepped in front of him.

"So, Knight Captain, what happens now? You know who and what I am; you know where I live. Will you take me now, or do I have a few days before you show up with an entire company to drag me away to that prison?"

Cullen looked over at the mage, surprised. Sighing he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and glanced around the room to see Varric and Isabella standing in the doorway, watching the exchange. "Look, Anders, it's clear that Hawke needs you right now," Cullen said. "And from the looks of things, you are doing some good down here. Maker knows they need all the help they can get in this part of the city."

Anders blinked in surprise, the stern look on his face slipping a bit. "So what are you saying?"

Cullen sighed again, "Look, I'm not exactly keen on leaving you down here, but I'd be a right git if I took you away because you used your magic to save Hawke's life. She deserves more than that from me, especially since she was hurt doing a favor for me."

"So you're letting me go?"

Cullen growled a bit, "I suppose I am. But let me make this clear, that doesn't mean I trust you. I do, however, trust Hawke, and if she trusts you, then so be it. I owe her that much at least, but that doesn't mean I won't be keeping an eye out for you. Got it?"

"Sure," Anders said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to rest a bit. I trust you can find your way out?"

Cullen nodded, looking one more time back into the depths of the clinic where Fenris was sitting at Hawke's bedside, inches away, but not touching anything but her raven hair. Sighing to himself, Cullen strolled through Darktown, wondering how exactly he was going to spin this in his report to the Knight Commander.

-0-

Sophia Hawke looked around, unsure exactly where she was. Something about this strange countryside seemed vaguely familiar, but the dense fog that enveloped her made it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead of her. Even with her limited vision, however, the landscape was undeniable; after all, she had spent her entire childhood roaming these hills. Unless she was mistaken, she was in the fields just outside of Lothering. Taking a deep breath; Sophia savored that smell and taste of the air. Yes, this was definitely Lothering. The air around her was crisp and cool, but for some reason, she didn't feel cold, only soothed after spending so long in the harsh moist heat of Kirkwall.

Kirkwall? She should be in Kirkwall; she had lived there for years. So why was she back in Ferelden? And where was her mother?

"Hello?" she shouted, getting to her feet and looking around her. "Is there any body there?" In the distance, she saw movement in the fog, formless shapes moving just beyond her sight. "Hello, anybody?" Movement again, so this time she began to tentatively walk in the direction of the movement.

"Sophie?" a voice rang out through the mist, and Sophia's breath caught. She knew that voice, a voice she had not heard since she was sixteen.

"Papa?" she cried out, turning to see where the voice was coming from. "Papa is that you?"

"Sophie, are you there? What are you doing here?"

"Papa, I'm scared; where are you? I can't see you," she shouted as she ran through the fog, desperately moving toward the sound of her father's voice.

"We're here, Sophie, but what are you doing here? It's not your time to be here, my dear."

Sophia didn't stop running, but despite the fact that she kept moving toward the voice, it never seemed to be any closer. "Daddy, please, where are you? Why can't I see you?"

"It's not your time to see us yet, my darling. You can't stay here."

"But, daddy…"

"Pia," another voice called out through the fog, and another shapeless figure appeared in the mist. "Pia, you have to go back."

"Carver," she sobbed, coming to a halt and dropping to her knees. "Carver is that you? Oh, Carver, I'm so sorry. I tried to save you; I did. I should have never taken you to Ostagar; I should have left you to take care of Mother. Oh Carver, I loved you. I'm sorry I failed you; I'm so sorry."

"You got Mother and Bethany to safety, Sister; that's the important thing."

"But I didn't; Bethany was taken by the templars and mother hates me for letting you die. I've failed you; I've failed you all."

"Sophie," her father's voice rang out through the fog. "You didn't fail us. Your sister is safe; your mother is safe and she loves you. Whether you choose to see it or not, she loves you. You got them out of Ferelden and away from the blight; so many weren't nearly as lucky. You have done well, my daughter, and I am proud of you."

Sophia continued to cry, holding her head in her hands. "Pia, you have to let it go. You've been holding on to this guilt for so long; you've let it consume you. It wasn't your fault that ogre killed me; I stepped in front of it to protect mother, remember? I knew what I was doing, what the risks were; it wasn't exactly like it was the first ogre we faced." Sophia nodded. "I sacrificed myself so you could get Mother to safety; you don't need to continue to sacrifice yourself to this guilt. I love you sister, and I want you to be happy."

"I don't deserve to be happy."

"Yes, Pia, yes you do. But you will never be happy as long as you hold on to this. You can't control everything, no matter how hard you try. You just have to do what you can with what the Maker gave you."

"Sophia, our time is nearly over," her father said. "It is nearly time for you to return."

Sophia shook her head, "I don't want to leave. Please let me stay with you; I don't want to go back."

She heard her father's laugh. "Yes you do, my daughter. There is work yet for you in Kirkwall, and there are people there who care for you. They are at your side even now. The Maker isn't quite finished with you. I love you."

"I love you Daddy, Carver," she whimpered as the air around her began to grow dark. She felt her eyes begin to grow heavy as she fell to the ground.

Before the darkness claimed her completely, she heard a voice call out, "Take care of Mother! I love you sister." And then she knew no more.

-0-

Sophia woke up in a state of panic, her brother's voice still ringing in her ears. Opening her eyes, she knew immediately that she was not in her own room, the cracks on the dirty ceiling were evidence enough of that. Was she back at Gamlen's for some reason? Desperately, she tried to remember what she had been doing, but the foggy fields of Lothering were the only memories coming to mind. Gingerly, she tried to sit up, but the smallest movement sent shock waves of pain through body. She gasped at the pain only to be hit with another wave of pain as her lungs struggled to pull in air. Her chest felt like there was a giant weight on top of her, and every breath became more and more difficult. Her breathing began to increase, but the amount of air she was getting didn't.

"Hawke, Hawke, slow down," a soothing voice cooed in her ear. She looked up to see Anders standing over her, his hand on her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. "Shallow breaths for me Hawke, short shallow breaths. That's the way, just focus on your breathing. Don't make me put you back to sleep."

Sophia concentrated on her breaths, being careful not to fill her lungs. Slowly but surely, the pressure in her chest began to ease and her head started to clear. Looking up at the blonde mage, she saw his gentle features begin to relax as her breathing slowed. "Feeling better?"

Sophia nodded. "Can…I…sit…up," she whispered between shallow breaths.

Anders nodded, "I think it would be better for you, actually. I just didn't want to move you while you were sleeping." He reached down and gently helped her move into an upright position, adjusting the pillows behind her. Sophia was embarrassed by how taxing merely sitting up was as it took her a couple of minutes to slow her breathing down enough to speak again.

"What…happened…How…did I…here?"

Anders gave her a small smile. "Well, I was sitting right over there, reading a book, minding my own business, when Fenris came barging in here followed by the Knight Captain who was carrying an unconscious you in his arms."

Sophia's eyes went wide with surprise. "Cullen here?" Anders nodded. "You healed me…with him here?"

"I didn't have much of a choice, now did I? I couldn't just let you die here in my clinic; wouldn't that be hypocritical of me. Besides, I'm pretty sure Fenris would have reached in my chest, pulled out my heart, and fed it to me if I refused to help you."

Sophia gave a weak laugh and immediately winced at the sudden pain. "Hurts to laugh, don't."

"I'm sure it hurts. You had two deep lacerations on your back, both of which punctured a lung; you're lucky they got you to me when they did." Anders face got suddenly serious. "You gave us a real scare."

"Thank you," she whispered, glancing around the room. "What did Cullen do?"

"He gave me a stern talking to, then walked out of Darktown like he hadn't seen a thing. A letter from him arrived the next day for you. Apparently, he thought he owed it to you to let me stay."

Sophia nodded. "Good. I'd hate for you…because of me."

"I would have done it, though; if it meant saving you. Justice would have been furious with me, but you've been too good a friend to me to just let you go like that."

She smiled and looked around the room again. "Fenris?"

Anders laughed. "If I know Fenris, he's probably sitting on the street outside the clinic. I had to kick him out yesterday; he was starting to drive me a bit crazy."

"Yesterday? How long?"

"Only two days, but they were a stressful two days. And you know how Fenris can get when he's stressed. He growls, he paces, he throws things. It's not a lot of fun if you're conscious through the whole thing, so I kicked him out."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the pillows, closing her eyes. "Hawke, what was the last thing you remember?"

"I was talking to a mage girl and her family, explaining the difficulties of harboring an apostate. The girl agreed to go to the tower, then nothing." She opened an eye and looked up at him. "What happened next?"

"Her boyfriend tried to kill you. He was hiding in the closet, listening to your meeting and apparently didn't like what he heard."

Sophia nodded. "Anders, I know you're probably not happy with me, sending her to the tower, but the templars had her already. They wanted to take her in without hurting her or her family, and you know as well as I how rare that can be. I just wanted to make sure they knew what they were getting themselves into if they tried to hide her," she said, pausing every so often to catch her breath. "She had no training, and there was no where I could send her to get any. Surely you can see how dangerous that could have been."

"Shh, Hawke, I'm not angry with you. Justice is a little miffed, but I understand your reasoning." He smiled down at her, pushing her hair off her face. "Would you like me to see if Fenris is outside? I know he's anxious to see you."

"Really?"

"He stayed at your side until I kicked him out, and I don't think he's moved since then."

Sophia smiled as a warm feeling began to build in her stomach. "I'd like to see him."

Anders nodded and disappeared behind the curtain to go fetch the elf. Fenris was at her side in mere seconds, taking her hand as he sat down on the edge of the table that was serving as her bed. The sudden contact sent shivers up her arm.

"Hawke, it is good to see your eyes once more," he said as he ran a thumb over her finger. She could feel the warmth emanating through her body as she reveled in the contact. "I was worried I would never see them again."

Sophia placed a second hand over their joined ones and looked up at him; they stayed that way for some time, simply looking at each other in a peaceful silence. He looked as ragged and worn as he had the day they first met when he was running from the slavers; it was clear that Anders had not been exaggerating when he said the elf hadn't left her side. "You look tired; when was the last time you slept?"

Fenris chuckled. It was typical Hawke; even on her sickbed, she was still concerned about others. "It has been a while. I couldn't sleep, not knowing…"

Sophia started to lift her hand to touch his cheek, but couldn't quite summon the strength to move it. What little energy she had was fading quickly. "Well, now you know, so why don't you go back to my place, tell mother how I am, have Boden feed you, then get a good night's rest. You don't need to stay here and watch me sleep."

"I don't mind."

"I know, and that's what's important. Now, go, take care of yourself so I can rest with an easier conscious."

Fenris nodded. "I will after you've eaten," he said, releasing her hand and going to get a bowl of bowl of soup from the kettle Anders kept on the fire. Slowly and patiently, the elf fed Sophia, making sure not a single drop landed on her blanket or tunic. Once they finished the first bowl, he set it aside and took her hand again. "How do you feel?"

"Sleepy," she answered. "Which is amazing since I've been asleep for two days."

"Healing sleep and resting sleep are not the same. You need resting sleep now," he said. He looked down at her and gave her hand another squeeze before getting up. "I will be back before dawn, then." He turned and was half way out of the clinic when he stopped to look at her again. "And Hawke, I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough," he said, and disappeared before she had a chance to respond. She wanted to call out to him, to run after him and ensure him that he wasn't at fault, but she could barely keep her eyes open. Giving up completely, she let her eyes close and let sleep envelop her again.

It wasn't until well into the next day that she even remembered what Anders had said about a letter from Cullen. Fenris had been true to his word; he was there the moment she had opened her eyes and hadn't left her side until he left to escort her mother back to Hightown. Hawke was about to doze off when she saw the letter sitting on her bedside.

_Hawke,_

_Let me first apologize for putting you in danger. I should have never asked you to go with me to collect that mage. I should have taken care of the situation myself without involving you, and I should have never asked it of you. Then I failed to protect you the way I should have. I would have never forgiven myself if you hadn't made it. Thank the Maker Fenris was there to get you to Anders in time. Marthana is settling in well here in the Gallows, though she's clearly distraught over the boy's death. Not that I blame Fenris; if he hadn't been faster than I was, I would have done the same thing._

_As for Anders, I think I can ignore him for the time being. He seems to be helping out the people of this city a great deal; besides, you agreed to help me. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't return the favor? Just be sure he keeps a low profile. I can keep quiet, but I can't protect him if other templars find out about him. All I can promise you is the same thing I promised with Bethany; Meredith won't find out about him through me. It's the least I can do after what nearly happened to you._

_I hope you can forgive me. I promise I will never ask you to endanger yourself on behalf of the templars again. I'm just glad that you are going to be alright. _

_Cullen_

Hawke gave a sigh of relief. She couldn't deny the fact that she was worried for Anders' safety and freedom. She knew full well how he would react if the templars showed up at his door, and it would have been because of her. There was no way she could deal with the guilt of letting down yet another mage. Guilt, as the word crossed her mind, she couldn't help but remember her dream. Or had it been something more? She would have to ask Anders about it sometime. But she couldn't help but think about what her brother had said to her. She had to move on, she had to start living again. She couldn't continue to let this guilt consume her. She glanced up to see Fenris walking back into the clinic and smiled. Maybe this had been what she needed to really put things into perspective.

-0-

_Okay, guys. Sorry for the unusually long delay. I swear, I don't usually take this long, but my laptop spent some time in the shop. Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in this story. Let me know if you like where it's headed, and thanks for taking time to read and review._


	6. Good Advice

To say that Meredith was unhappy with Cullen would have been a bit of an understatement. Never before in his career as a templar had he been even moderately reprimanded; he had always toed the line when it came to following orders and obeying his superiors. He knew that Meredith frowned on going to outsiders for help in templar matters, so Cullen had hoped to keep his arrangement with Hawke quiet. However, with Hawke getting injured in such a dramatic fashion, there was no way to keep Meredith from finding out. So he wasn't surprised to find the Knight-Commander waiting for him the moment he stepped off the boat. Without saying a word, she simply motioned for him to follow, and in that moment, Cullen knew he was in deep trouble. Sighing deeply in defeat, Cullen silently followed Meredith through the Gallows and into her office. He stood in the middle of the room in front of her desk, waiting for the Knight-Commander to unleash her wrath on him.

Meredith sat down behind her desk and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest as she glared up at him. "So, Knight-Captain, care to explain to me why exactly I getting reports of civilians being injured assisting you in a simple initial mage apprehension? Please tell me you did not employ outside help in taking a mage into custody?"

"Please allow me to explain."

Meredith's eyes flared, "So it's true; you asked that Hawke woman to help you take in a single mage, an untrained mage? Surely my Knight-Captain too intelligent to purposefully bring a civilian into contact with a possibly volatile mage." Cullen sighed and hung his head. "Cullen, I am disappointed in you. I had more faith in you than that. Do you have any idea how this makes the templar order look? It looks like we can't perform our most basic responsibility without hiring outsiders to assist us. One of our most important responsibilities is to find mages and bring them safely into the circle so that they can be properly taught and supervised, surely they taught you this in your training." Cullen nodded, keeping his eyes on the floor in front of him. "And not only did you go to her for help, but you allowed her to be injured in the process. Do you have any idea how inept that makes us look? I expected better from my Knight-Captain," she snapped shaking her head at him. "I heard her injury was quite severe. Will she survive?" Meredith asked bluntly.

Cullen nodded. "She was injured, but we were able to get her treatment," he said, careful to avoid what kind of treatment she received. "It looked more dire at first than it actually was. Her bleeding had stopped when I left, and she was being given potions to compensate for her blood loss. Her companions promised to inform me if anything changed."

"You had better hope that she pulls through because we can't endure another black eye after that debacle with Wilmond. Now, care to explain why exactly you thought you needed her aid in something as basic as this."

"I felt like Martana's was a special case, Commander. This particular mage was nearly sixteen when her powers manifested."

"That's not unheard of," Meredith pointed out.

"I know; I've dealt with several mages over the years who came into their powers and joined the circle rather late in life. And in my experience, those mages are the ones who cause the most trouble and are the most unhappy with their lives in the circle. They remember all too clearly what life was like on the outside, and they long for it. They are the ones who try the hardest to escape and are often involved in rebellions; many of them are desperate enough to turn to blood magic. I remember Uldred, the leader of the rebellion in the Ferelden Circle was one such mage. He was in his late teens when his powers were discovered, and he resented the templars and chantry for what happened to him. He was the second son of a nobleman and didn't take his loss in stature very well. That's why he decided to rebel against us."

"That's fascinating," Meredith said dryly. "I just fail to see what any of this has to do with Sophia Hawke."

"I had hoped that Hawke might convince Marthana to join the circle willingly." Meredith opened her mouth to respond, but Cullen held up his hands to stop her. "I know that she had no real choice in the matter. I just hoped that if she understood the situation better, she wouldn't have caused trouble once she got here. I mean, look at Bethany Hawke. She lived for nearly fifteen years as an apostate, but because she clearly understood what was expected of her and that trying to escape was futile, she came willingly with us and hasn't caused us any trouble. If anything, she's been an asset to the circle since she passed her harrowing. I thought that this girl could prove to be the same if she was educated better and educated by someone who wasn't a templar. Hawke is an outsider, but she's an outsider who understands the way the circle works. I knew I could bring in a squad and take her without harming her or her family, but I hoped to prevent any future problems by convincing both her and her family that the circle was the right place for her."

Meredith sighed, "I can see your point, and I understand where you're coming from. I have to say, I was a bit afraid you had gone a bit soft on the mages."

Cullen shook his head, "Never, not after what I went through in Ferelden. This wasn't out of sympathy for Marthana, it was out of a hope for self preservation. We don't need more unhappy mages here; they are unhappy enough to begin with."

"Which is why we need a firm hand, Cullen," Meredith chided. "I said I understand where you were coming from, but you need to understand this. What you did today left an impression on that girl. She will think that it is in our nature to cater to her whims and the whims of the other mages, that we are here to make her life easier, that we can be easily swayed. The mages can never believe that, Cullen, and you should know that better than anyone else. They should learn to fear and respect us; that is the only way we can control them, with a firm hand." Meredith sighed, "It's a good thing that girl is weak."

Cullen looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I evaluated her today when the rest of your squad brought her in. Her powers are not strong at all. I doubt she will survive her Harrowing, so we won't have to worry about her impression of you infecting the other mages." Cullen nodded. "As for you, do not go to outsiders again for a situation like this. Employing Hawke's aid in figuring out what was going on at the Rose was one thing, but templars do not need aid in these sort of matters. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Commander, it won't happen again."

"Good. You are confided to the Gallows for a week. Do not give me reason to doubt you again, or I will ship you back to Ferelden. You are dismissed."

Cullen gave the Knight-Commander a parting nod and quickly made his way out of her office and into the barracks, breathing a sigh of relief. A week of confinement was nothing compared with what he had expected her to do. He half expected to be shipped off to Aeonar or Val Royeaux. Sitting down on his bed, Cullen hastily stripped off his gauntlets and breast plate and leaned back on his bead, letting his mind wander over the events of the day. He couldn't help but worry about Hawke. He knew she was in good hands with Anders and her other friends, but that didn't stop him from imagining the worst. After all, he was the one who had carried her through the city, watching as the color drained from her face, hearing her breaths become more and more labored. He did not want that to be his last memory of Hawke, of a woman who was always so vibrant and full of life. He sighed and dropped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as other members of the order made their way in.

"Hey Cullen," Barry said as he plopped down on the bed beside the pensive templar. Cullen glanced over at the blonde man sitting beside him. Barry was one of the few members of the order that Cullen actually considered a friend. He was several years younger than the Knight-Captain, but he was skilled with a blade and was a dependable ally in a fight. He was one of the few knights who Cullen had opened up to about his past in the Frelden circle, and he was the only one that Cullen ever talked to about Hawke. "What's eatin you? You're usually in a better mood when you come back from seeing Hawke. Did she let the mage escape or something?"

"I almost wish it was that simple," Cullen said with a sigh. Hanging his head, Cullen quickly explained to his friend what happened when they were with the mage's family. Barry listened with obvious concern for his friend.

"So, is she going to be alright?"

"I hope so; she has good friends who are taking care of. I just can't help but feel guilty, you know? I put her in this position, and, ugh, I don't know." He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Why did I ask her to do this; I mean, I could have easily gotten that mage to come with us. Why did I go to her?"

"Because you have a crush on her," Barry pointed out frankly. Cullen looked up at him, the surprised look on his face making the other templar burst out laughing.

"What are you rambling about?" Cullen asked hastily.

"Oh, come on Cullen I'm not blind. You've had a thing for that woman for three years. I've seen the way you look at her when she comes to the Gallows; I've seen how you light up when she comes over to talk to you. And I've definitely seen the way you smile for three days when you come back from spending time with her. You like the woman, and you'll make any excuse necessary to be around her."

Cullen gave Barry a slightly sheepish look. "So am I that obvious, then?"

The younger templar shrugged, "Only to me, and that's only because I know you too well. So come on, Cullen, what are you going to do about it? You've been pining over this girl for three years…"

"I have not been pining."

"Whatever you say. But you don't deny the fact that you want more than a friendship with her, right?" Cullen nodded. "So, what's stopping you?"

Cullen sighed, cradling his head in his hands. "I have no idea what to do when it comes to…um…pursuing a relationship with a woman. It's not like I've had a lot of chances to woo women in the past."

"Oh, come on, you're telling me that you didn't have some scandalous teenage romance or an innocent tryst with the blacksmith's daughter before you joined the chantry?"

Cullen shook his head. "You would have been nuts to mess with the blacksmith's daughter in my home town. She was as burley and hairy as her father," Cullen said with a snort; then his face grew serious. "But, no, I entered the chantry when I was only 10. My parents both died of the plague, and I had nowhere else to go. I wasn't exactly given much of a choice about joining the templars; it was expected of boys who grew up as stewards of the church."

Barry's smile faded. "I'm sorry, man, I never knew."

Cullen shrugged. "I don't talk about it that much. Redcliffe was too small to have a proper orphanage, so the lay sisters took care of me until I was old enough to enter training. I guess that's how I've managed to rise through the ranks so quickly; a strong chantry background and experience fighting in a mages' rebellion. It just didn't leave much room for learning about women. Besides, the sisters in Redcliffe were really strict. They made it seem like templars were expected to be celibate their entire lives. In fact, most templars in Ferelden are. It wasn't until I came here that I realized that that particular vow wasn't a required part of the templar life."

"But they had you take that vow anyway? Harsh."

"Yeah, but I was 14 when I did and had been around nothing but chantry sisters through my formative years. Not the young, pretty ones mind you, old hags the whole lot of them. What was sex to me?"

"Thus your current predicaments."

"Exactly," Cullen said with a sigh. "So what do I do now? I'm clearly not hiding my affections well, but I'm just an outsider, an outsider who has hurt her on numerous occasions." Barry glanced up at him, confused. "Well, just this week, I lead her into a situation where she was nearly killed; I was part of the party who took her sister into the Circle. I couldn't stop Wilmond from going all abomination on her." Cullen growled in frustration. "What am I doing? I shouldn't have feelings for her in the first place; she's a sister of a former apostate for Andraste's sake. Getting involved with her is a scandal waiting to happen."

Barry snorted and shook his head. "Why do you say that? She's not a mage; she's the sister of a mage, a circle mage, I might add. We took her into the tower before Hawke became well known among the well-to-do of the city, and they're the only ones that would care. I'd bet most of them don't even know she has a sister in the Gallows."

"But if it got out that she did and…"

Barry let out a sharp bark of laughter. "And how pray tell is it supposed to get out? What, do you think she or her mother is out there bragging about Bethany? They're nobility, Cullen. Well, Leandra Amell Hawke is at least. The nobility in this city who have magic in their bloodline tend to ignore it for the simple fact that they are ashamed of it. I don't see either of them bringing up Bethany at the next tea party or lunchen. Besides, all this fame and buzz surrounding Hawke is beginning to die down now that the other nobles are getting used to her living in Hightown. Give them a year or so and the Hawkes will be just another wealthy family in Kirkwall. There's nothing scandalous about a templar courting a noblewoman so long as you're careful at least."

"So what do you suggest I do?"

"Well, since you're stuck here for a week, the first thing I suggest you do is write to her. Let her know you're thinking about her, that you're happy for her recovery."

"I can do that."

"Then, once you're free to leave again, visit her and give her something to show how much you appreciate her help. It needs to be something she would like, but something that would make her think of you every time she sees it." Barry grinned, "So it should be something she would use frequently."

"Okay, that sounds doable."

"And finally, try to spend some time alone with her, away from that group of friends she's always surrounded by. You'll never be able to express yourself with an audience; Maker, it took you three years to express yourself to yourself."

"I hate you."

Barry laughed, "No, you need me too much to hate me. Here, get some paper, and I'll help you write that letter."

"I'm perfectly capable of writing a letter on my own, thank you. Now, get out of here, and give me a little privacy."

Barry chuckled, "Okay, fine, I'll be here if you need me." Cullen threw his pillow at the door as it closed behind the younger templar. Sweet Maker, he was in deep.

-0-

The next few days felt like an eternity for Cullen. He sent a letter to Hawke first thing the next morning, and then all he could do was wait. It was nearly four days before he got any sort of response from Hawke, and he was beginning to worry that she was angry with him for allowing her to get injured. Her companions were true to their word. Isabella had written that same day to inform him that Hawke's condition had improved though she still hadn't woken up, but he hadn't heard anything else. He began to really worry that Hawke was furious at him and was never speaking to him. Cullen was about to give up hope when he finally received a letter from her. It was short and to the point, but Cullen was grateful to have it.

_Cullen, _

_Don't be so hard on yourself; you did nothing wrong. How could you have known the girl had a boyfriend who has handy with a pair of daggers? It was just an unlucky break, nothing more. I'm sorry it has taken me so long to reply. I only just left the clinic and returned to my estate today, so I wasn't able to respond before. A insists that with another week's rest I'll be back to normal, so I've been confined to my estate for the time being. I'm still very weak and have spent most of the last few days sleeping, but I'm sure it will pass. _

_I hope to see you again soon. Till then, don't be so hard on yourself, got it?_

_Sophia Hawke_

_P.S. Sorry it's such a short letter. I had to sneak out of bed while my mother was at the market to write it. Maker's breath, they won't let me do anything around here. They think I'm breakable all of a sudden._

Cullen was relieved that Hawke had forgiven him and was beginning to feel better. All of a sudden, he had hope and was looking forward to seeing her again. Next time, it would be different, he promised himself that much, as long as he didn't say anything stupid to screw it up. She was stuck in her estate for the next week, though, and Cullen was still stuck at the Gallows for a few days, so it would be a while until he saw her again. In the mean time, Cullen set about trying to find the perfect gift to make up for his poor judgment. He mulled over Barry's advice for a while, wondering what kind of gift Hawke would appreciate. If she had been a typical girl, he could have gotten away with flowers or sweets or some jewelry of some kind, but Hawke was more practical than that. He didn't see a bouquet of flowers impressing Sophia Hawke all that much. No, it had to be something special but useful. Then Cullen remembered something he had seen at one of the merchant's stalls just the other day. The templar smiled to himself. With a few alterations it would be perfect.

After nearly a week of visiting various venders and tranquil mages, Cullen was more than pleased with the final product. He now had in his possession a pair of reinforced drake-skin bracers, the kind that he had often seen Hawke wearing during her many visits to the Gallows. He had gone to the head smith in the armory and gotten him to inlay the Amell crest into the leather. Once that was finished, he had given the bracers to one of the tranquil mages who was particularly skilled in working with lyrium. He had the mage add a special rune to the inside of the braces where the leather would rest on Hawke's skin. According to the mage, the inscription should help sharpen Hawke's senses and improve her agility. The final touch Cullen added was a small concealed dagger that could be triggered by pressing a small button on the side of the bracer. It wouldn't be practical in a long fight, but it could be used quickly if Hawke was ever taken by surprise again, allowing her at attack without reaching for the blades that she kept strapped to her back. Cullen was sure Hawke would love it.

With that thought in mind, Cullen made his way through the slums of Lowtown. It had been nearly two weeks since he had last seen her, and Cullen was more than a little anxious. Barry's advice had been tumbling over in his mind over the past few weeks as the younger templar had taken it upon himself to continue to offer advice whether Cullen wanted it or not. Cullen finally had to tell the young man to shut up; Barry was confusing Cullen more than he was helping him. The Knight-Captain just decided to play it by ear once he saw her.

Oddly enough, the day he had put the final touches on his gift and told Barry to shut up, Hawke had sent him a note, letting him know that everyone was celebrating her recovery at the Hanged Man the next evening, and she had invited him to stop by. That's how he found himself in his current predicament standing in front of the tavern, bracers in his coat pocket, trying to keep his nerves in check. Taking a deep breath to calm himself a bit, Cullen pushed open the door and made his way inside. Hawke's friends were gathered around their normal table, laughing and drinking, but Hawke herself was nowhere to be seen. Trying not to be too disappointed, he made his way across the tavern to join them. It wasn't until he reached the table that he actually saw Hawke.

She wasn't with the group. Instead, she was standing at the back of the room, leaning casually against the wall, gazing up at the elf who was standing in front of her. Fenris had one hand resting on the wall beside Hawke's head, as he leaned down to talk to her. Cullen's chest tightened as Hawke laughed at something he said, her hand casually coming to rest the lithe warrior's arm. Fenris nodded and took a long drink from the bottle of wine in his other hand before handing it to Hawke. She smiled and took the drink from him, giving him a coy grin as she took a quick drink. As she lowered the bottle, her eyes flicked across the room and met Cullen's. Her smile brightened and gave him a small wave, causing Fenris to turn to look around the tavern.

When the elf saw the templar standing there, smiling at Hawke, his tattoos flared dimly and his eyes darkened as he glared at Cullen for a moment, a harsh look flashing across his face. Before Cullen could really process what was happening, the elf turned his back to the tavern, focusing solely on Sophia. Fenris leaned down and whispered something into her ear, making her blush before he grabbed Hawke and pulled her into his arms, dipping his head down to meet hers and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Hawke's arms wound around the elf's waist as she melted into his embrace, closing any distance between them.

Cullen stood there, temporarily unable to move as he watched to two kiss. He was internally kicking himself; he should have seen it earlier. Of course the elf had feelings for her; every time he had seen her, the elf was always at her side, his eyes always on her. And he had seen Fenris's reaction to Hawke's injury; the elf was out of his mind with worry. Cullen had been so upset himself that he hadn't really stopped to consider the other man's actions. Why hadn't he seen it before? He had been so worried about Hawke rejecting him, that he hadn't even considered the fact that he might lose her to someone else while he was being indecisive. Now it was too late; she was with someone else.

The bark of laughter coming from the table beside him jarred him from his self-deprecation. He looked down to see the entire table was focused on the same scene that had caught his attention. Varric slammed his drink down on the table, pounding it with his fist as he laughed. "What did I tell you, Rivaini?"

Isabella sighed and slid a small pouch across the table. "You were right, as usual," she said with a sigh. "Though I should protest on the grounds of interference. That elf would have never done this on his own; you really should split those winnings with Cullen."

Cullen glanced down at the two rogues, a confused look on his face, but Varric just laughed. "Oh, please, are you telling me that you didn't see that coming? Why do you think I made the bet in the first place?"

"Excuse me," Cullen said, sliding into the booth beside them. "What did I have to do with anything?"

Isabella smiled and patted the templar on the leg. "Oh, come now, sweet thing; surely you can see what happened here. Nothing like a little competition to get the heart pumping, no? He's staking his claim, making it clear to any who might express an interest in his woman. It's the best way to tell the competition to back off."

"So he sees me as competition, then?"

Isabella raised her eyebrows and gave him a knowing look. "Aren't you?"

_Not anymore_, he thought to himself. "No," he said, "Hawke and I are just friends. There's nothing for him to worry about."

"Could have fooled me," Varric muttered, taking a sip of his drink. "Hey Hawke," he shouted across the tavern, "You plan on joining us any time soon, or do you want us to just go on without you."

Hawke and Fenris broke apart, her face bright red and his scowling at the dwarf. She glanced shyly up at the elf, giving him a quick grin before pulling him over to the table to join the rest of the group. The couple slid into the booth beside Varric who immediately dealt them a hand of cards. Cullen did his best to make the most of the night, trying to focus on the positives of the situation, but all he could see was the two of them together, his Hawke in the arms of the elf. He left earlier than usual, giving some excuse about morning duty, but in reality, he just needed to get away. It wasn't until he was back in the Gallows that he realized that the gauntlets he had had made for her were still in his pocket.

-0-

_So, this one was a bit shorter than usual, sorry. I hope you all haven't lost interest yet. Thanks to those of you who've taken time to review and are still reading. Let me know what you think. I know the Cullen romance hasn't quite developed yet, but bear with me. I'll get to it, I swear!_


	7. Wolf Interrupted

Everyone in the Hawke household was thrilled when Anders finally gave her a clean bill of health and told her that as long as she took it easy for a few weeks, she could return to her normal activity. The last week in the Hawke house had been extremely never wracking for everyone involved, but no one struggled as much as Fenris. Somehow, Fenris managed to keep his emotions in check while he was caring for Hawke after her attack. For the last week, Fenris had been a constant fixture at her side while Anders had her on bed rest, refusing even to leave at night. He insisted on staying as Hawke didn't employ guards and would be unable to defend herself should something happen during the night (though he spent the nights on a couch in her living room). It was only an excuse; in truth he had just wanted to be near her, to ensure himself that she was in fact alive. He still felt immensely guilty for letting his guard down around her and allowing her to be attacked. The feelings of guilt were so strong that the possessive, jealous feelings that had been consuming him since Cullen first joined their little group had abated a bit while he was completely focused on Hawke's well-being.

Though Sophia spent most of the week sleeping, Fenris couldn't remember a time when he had been happier. Just spending time in her presence seemed to silence the demons that had plagued him since the left the Imperium. Just being around her made him feel suddenly complete, free in a way he had never been before. Her mere presence seemed to dissolve the chains that had been tying him to his former life, and it made the memories fade as he began to look more to the future than the past. He found himself making excuses to touch her, brushing a hair out of her face as she slept, adjusting her pillows before she ate, helping her get to the bath or the necessary, anything just to feel her warm skin beneath his fingers. However, he could never bring himself to cross that line and kiss her because, he knew what that would mean. It would mean he was claiming her as his, and even though she was awakening something new and real within him, deep down, he still felt that he was unworthy of her. During their week together, though, it had started to become clear to him that on some level she shared his feelings. She always seemed to be genuinely happy to see him, turning into his touches instead of shying away. Even though he was inexperienced in interoperating such things, he she looked at him with a new passion in her eyes. The prospect thrilled him and terrified him at the same time.

Sophia's brush with death had done one important thing for him. It had made him really begin to reevaluate just how much he cared for her, and while he wasn't quite ready to claim her as his own, he certainly wasn't about to let her go. And there was no way he was letting anyone else get her. For her part, Hawke seemed to realize this, so she didn't push him. She always looked up at him, though, like she was hoping for more, a fact that made a small part of him puff its chest up in pride.

All that changed for him, however, the night everyone met at the Hanged Man to celebrate Hawke's recovery. (Really, though, when did her group ever need an excuse to get together and drink?) This night seemed different from the start, mainly because Hawke seemed different, at least when it came to how she acted around Fenris she did. She walked a bit closer to him than she normally did, smiled up at him with softer expression than before. Even when they sat down in their normal booth, she was different, sitting a bit closer than usual, to the point that they were nearly touching. He could feel the warmth of her body and smell her soft, flowery scent washing over him as he sat beside her, his arm draped behind her across the back of the booth as they waited for everyone else to arrive.

Varric was already there, sitting at the head of the table shuffling his deck of cards and telling some story to Merril when Isabella strolled down the stairs. The pirate held up a bottle of wine and motioned for Hawke to join her. Sophia nudged Fenris and whispered in his ear, "Join me for a minute." She picked up a pair of empty glasses and flitted across the tavern to join her fellow rogue. Isabella whispered something in Hawke's ear and then gave Fenris a devious smile as she left to join the card game. "I asked Bella to find this for us," Hawke said holding up the bottle of wine the pirate had given her once Fenris made it over to her. "It's supposed to be the best wine you can get in the Free Marches; I hear it may even stand up to that Imperium stuff you're always bragging about."

Rolling his eyes, Fenris took the bottle from her and examined it for a moment. The fancy illustrations and calligraphy suggested that it was Orlesian in origin, so he didn't recognize the writing on the bottle. "What is it called?"

Hawke grinned up at him. "I don't speak Orlesian, so I'm not sure exactly what it's called there, but I've always heard it referred to as ambrosia…"

"The drink of the Old Gods," Fenris finished for her.

Hawke nodded. "Isabella's been searching for a bottle of it for me for over a year; apparently it's very hard to get in this part of the world. Only a few orchards even grow the variety of grapes used in this stuff, and most of the bottles that are produced each year stay with the Orlesian nobility."

"It must have cost you a great deal, Hawke," he said, handing the bottle back to her. "You must be saving it for something important then."

Hawke shrugged and uncorked the bottle, grinning at Fenris' surprised gasp. "No time like the present," she said. "What's the point of having good wine if you don't enjoy it? You taught me that; besides, there's no one else I'd rather share it with. I did buy it for you."

"For me?"

"Well, for us. I know how much you appreciate good wine, so when I heard one of my mother's friends bragging about having this at some dinner party, I decided to track down a bottle to see if it met your incredibly high standards." She cocked her head and looked up at him through her lashes, giving him a coy, almost coquettish smile. "Now, grab a glass and let me pour you a drink."

Fenris' breath caught when he met her eye. Taking the glasses from her and setting them aside, the elf took a step closer to her, resting a hand on the wall beside her head. "Given the present surroundings, I think a more casual approach would be more appropriate, and if this wine is as good as you say it is, we would only be tainting it with the glasses from this place," he said, tilting the bottle up to his mouth and taking a long drink. The moment the liquid passed his lips, Fenris closed his eyes, savoring the warm, sweet taste of the wine. Somehow, it had an almost flowery taste, so much so that it reminded him distinctly of the woman who had given him the wine, the woman whose laughter made the wine seem even sweeter. Sighing to himself, he opened his eyes and looked down at Hawke. "Delightful," he said, smiling down at her, "and the wine was pretty good, too."

Hawke's cheeks flushed, making her skin an alluring shade of pink, and she glanced away like she was suddenly embarrassed. Chuckling to himself, Fenris held the bottle out to her and watched with amusement as she took the wine. Tilting the bottle up to her mouth, Hawke closed her eyes and gave a soft moan that made Fenris' trousers feel suddenly slightly uncomfortable. As she drew the bottle away from her mouth, a small drop of liquid fell on her bottom lip, and for a moment, Fenris had to fight the urge to take her lips into his, just to see how that sweet nectar tasted on her skin. She smiled up at him again before her soft, pink tongue darted out, capturing the last drop still lingering on her lips. Fenris' heart skipped a beat as he lost himself in her gaze.

"It's good," she said in a husky voice, handing the bottle back to Fenris, just letting her fingers brush against the back of his hand as he took the bottle back. The elf gave a satisfied grunt of agreement as he took another long drink to calm his nerves a bit. "So I suppose it's a good thing we didn't decide to wait to enjoy this, then, isn't it?" she asked, biting her bottom lip as she gazed up at him. "It feels good to…indulge yourself on the sweeter things in life once in a while instead of constantly waiting until later?"

"Hum, but if you rush into things, you don't always take the time to savor it. A lot of times you appreciate things more when you've had to wait for them; it makes you hungry for them, long for them." He looked down into her intense blue eyes. "The best things in life are worth the wait."

Hawke tilted her head and looked up at him as her hand began to trace the tattoos on his arm. "So exactly how long would you have been willing to wait to sample this particularly exquisite wine? Would you have held out for a truly special occasion, or do you think the temptation to have a taste would have eventually gotten the better of you?"

"We're not talking about the wine anymore, are we Hawke?" Fenris asked taking a long drink from the bottle.

Sophia laughed and took the bottle from his hand. "Why my dear Fenris, what else would we be talking about?" She grinned again and took a drink herself. As she lowered the bottle, her face brightened, and she waved at someone who across the bar.

Fenris turned to see who had caught her eye, and suddenly, the jealousy and rage that he had managed to suppress for the last week came roaring back with a vengeance. Cullen was standing there, across the tavern, waving at Hawke and smiling that smile that infuriated him so much. All of a sudden all the blood rushed to Fenris' head and it took everything in him to keep himself from crossing the room and tearing the man's heart out of his chest. He may have done it, too, if Hawke hadn't shifted in his periphery. He turned back to her, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. The smile was still lingering on her lips, but her eyes were focused on him, not the templar across the room. The green eyed monster in his growled in delight.

"I'm a strong man, Sophia Hawke," he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear, loving the way she seemed to shiver when he said her full name. "But not even I can resist temptation forever. There are some things that just beg to be tasted." And with that, he finally gave into the desires that had been tearing at him since the first time he laid eyes on her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled the rogue to his chest, cursing the metal barrier his armor formed between them. More than anything, he wanted to feel her willowy body against his, but that, he knew, would have to come later. For now, he would have to simply be satisfied with the way her lips felt against his.

The moment their lips met, the world around them seemed to dissolve; there was nothing else except for this woman in his arms. Never before had he felt so complete, so whole than he did at that moment. He was slowly being consumed by an overwhelming need to be with this woman, and he started to wonder why exactly he had waited so long. Much to his pleasure, Hawke seemed to be of the same mind since she completely melted into his arms the moment their lips met, eagerly meeting his kisses with those of her own. He was on the verge of grabbing her and dragging her back to one of their Hightown homes or at the very least to one of the rooms upstairs when Varric shouted at them across the room, completely breaking whatever spell was happening between them. While Hawke simply blushed looked over at their friends, Fenris could only glare at the dwarf, completely furious at him.

Hawke, though, managed to calm him down a bit. She simply smiled up at him with a look that said "We'll pick this up later." Sighing to himself, he allowed Hawke to pull him over to the table, but he found himself unable to concentrate on anything other Sophia. The memory of their kiss played over and over in his head through the rest of the night; in fact, he didn't even notice when the templar left.

Though he was glad he had finally done it, Fenris was still a bit confused as to why he had suddenly kissed her the way he did. Not that he was regretting it by any means. He was glad he had finally done it; he just hadn't really planned to do it like that. It was true that he had been at her side constantly since she had been injured by that impertinent boy, and he had been more free in allowing himself to casually touch her. But this was a line he hadn't yet crossed, not even in private. So what made him claim her in such a dramatic and public fashion was beyond him. He refused to admit to himself that that damn templar was the motivation. Nope, that man was not getting credit for what had quickly become one of the most wonderful memories in his short life, a moment that was forever seared in his mind. He'd rather blame it on the wine than give the credit to another man. In fact, he would rather just completely forget the fact that the templar had ever come into their lives altogether.

Fenris had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that it surprised him when Hawke nudged him and asked if he was ready to leave. Smiling down at her, he nodded, sliding out of the booth so that they could leave together. Walking beside her had never before been such a struggle for the elf. Fenris only made it into the Hightown market before the need to touch her again became too much. Grabbing her arm, the elf shoved her against the wall, looking down at her hungrily before devouring her lips once more. This time, Hawke was even more compliant, fisting her hands in his white hair as she thrust her body against his.

"Fenris," she whispered into his ear as he moved his attentions from her lips to the soft tissue at the base of her throat. She moaned and buckled against him as he bit down on the pulse point just beneath her jaw line. "Oh, Maker, Fenris, take me home."

"You really want to go home," he breathed moving to the other side of her neck.

"Your home, my home, I don't give a damn; just get me to a bed before I completely fall apart here."

Hearing the unadulterated lust in her voice stirred up feelings in Fenris the elf never knew that he had. Never before in the life he could remember had he ever felt this way about a woman. Before Hawke, the women around him had either been magisters or fellow slaves, neither of whom held any kind of attraction for him. But this woman, she was stirring up things in Fenris he never knew were there. He had already become accustomed to the feelings of jealousy, and he thought he understood desire, but he was wrong. Way wrong. The way his heart burned for Hawke was like nothing the elf had ever felt. It seared him more than Danarius's magic could ever hope to sear him. It was a fire that both burned and soothed at the same time, and he couldn't get enough. Hearing her beg him, him, a former slave, to take her was all he needed. This woman would be his. Giving her one last kiss, Fenris seized the thin rogue by the waist and began to pull her through the alleyways of Hightown. The primal side wanted to ignore her pleas and take her right there, but the more logical side told him that he wanted their first time to be more special that an mere rutting behind a market stall. Hawke deserved more than that, and that was something he could give her. If nothing else, he could give her that.

He was so focused on getting to her estate that he failed to really take note of his surroundings. It wasn't until Mathus began to growl that he even realized they had company. "Stop right there," a voice boomed through the otherwise silent Kirkwall night. "You are in possession of stolen property. Back away from the salve now and you will be spared."

Fenris could feel the burning lust inside him quickly change to fury as the hunters stepped out of the shadows and began advancing on them. He reached for Hawke, trying to sweep her behind him in hope that he would be able to shield her somewhat from the inevitable attack. There were two mages and at least four other hunters stepping out of the shadows, and there was no doubt that there were likely several more lurking just out of sight. Much to his dismay, though, Hawke avoided his arm and stepped instead in front of him, ignoring his hissing protests. "Fenris is a free man; he is no one's property."

The lead hunter advanced on the couple, his hands glowing as magic flared up around him. "I will not repeat myself. Now, it is your choice; back away from the slave, or don't; it's your loss. I'm sure a pretty piece of ass like you would earn me more than a few coppers." He turned and looked at the men behind him. "Try not to hurt her too much; she'll be worth more unscathed, not to mention we'll be able to enjoy her if she's not all messed up."

Fenris's lyrium lines began to glow brightly as he reached for the massive sword on his back. "You will not touch on her," he growled as he launched himself toward the mage, moving faster than he realized was possible. The mage didn't have time to react as Fenris' sword came down, slicing the man's head clear from his body in a single stroke. Behind him, the elf heard an explosion as Hawke threw one of her firebombs at the group of approaching slavers. He tried desperately to keep an eye on her as he cut down the attackers, but between the dim moonlight and her dark armor, she was impossible to follow. There would be occasional flashes of metal as she darted out of the shadows to take down a slaver, but she managed to stay hidden for the most part. Though this kind of fighting definitely fit her style, it made it devilishly hard for him to concentrate on his own fights for worrying about her.

Focusing as much as he could, Fenris turned his attention to the second mage in the group. He hissed in pain as a lightning bolt grazed his shoulder, but he managed to take down the mage before he could summon another spell. As he was pulling is sword from the man's body, he heard Hawke yelling for him to watch out. Spinning around, he saw a large, heavily armored warrior approaching him, sword raised above his head. There wasn't time to raise his sword to block the attack; all he could do was roll to the side and hope it grazed him. He quickly rolled to the side, barely missing the blade as it slammed into the ground followed by, much to the elf's surprise, the body of his attacker. Fenris looked around and saw Hawke, her daggers raised, standing over the man's body.

"Are you alright," Hawke said, kneeling by his side.

Fenris nodded, "Are you?" She smiled and offered him her hand to help him to his feet. He looked down at her, taking her head in his hands and looking at her carefully, checking to make sure she had no major injuries.

"Fenris, I'm fine," she said, giving him a weak smile, "just a bit winded. I'm not sure this is what Anders had in mind when he told me to take it easy." She glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward one of the soldiers. "I left that one alive if you want to ask him some questions."

The elf gave her a quick nod before he moved over to the survivor and knelt beside the man, grabbing him by his hair and lifting him up. "Where is he?" Fenris growled. When the man didn't respond, the elf slammed his head to the ground. "Where is he? Tell me."

"Please don't kill me. I don't know," the man stuttered nervously. "I swear I don't know. Hadriana brought us here. She's in the holding caves north of the city. I can show you the way, just don't kill me."

"No need," Fenris answered. "I know which ones you speak of."

"Then let me go. I beg you, I swear I'll…"

"You should of thought about that before you came looking for me. You chose the wrong master," the elf said, snapping the man's neck in one fluid motion. The man's body fell limply at his feet. He stared at the dead man briefly before getting to his feet and starting to pace. Just hearing that woman's name again brought back a flood of emotions that he thought were long dead. Images of her torments came rushing back to his mind, and he could feel the hate rising in him. Just hearing her name again after all these years made him ill. How could he have been so stupid to let his guard down? He glanced up at Hawke who looking at him, her eyes full of concern. Why did he let himself think that he could have a normal life? Who was he fooling? Deep down, he was still just a slave; hearing that Hadriana was in Kirkwall just solidified that fact.

"Hadriana," he growled, more to himself than to Hawke. "I was a fool to think I was free. They'll never let me be."

"Fenris, what's wrong? I don't understand," Hawke said, putting a hand on his arm as she looked up at him. "Who is this Hadriana?"

Fenris flinched, hearing her name on Hawke's lips. "My old master's apprentice," he replied, shaking his head. "I remember her well. A sniveling social climber who would sell her own children if she thought it would please Danarius. If she's here, it's at his bidding. I should have known he wouldn't let this go."

Hawke took his hands and brought them to her lips, kissing his knuckles as she looked up at him. "Fenris, it doesn't matter who is here. You are a free man, and nothing Danarius or this Hadriana can do will change that. No one is laying a finger on you again, not while there is breath in my body. Now, you say you know where these caves are." Fenris nodded. "Then tomorrow morning, we will go there and take care of this."

"No, we need to go immediately, tonight."

Hawke sighed, "Be reasonable, Fenris; we can't go in the middle of the night. It's too dangerous, even the hunters wouldn't go out there till daybreak. Tomorrow morning, you will go get Varric and Anders, and I will get Cullen. Then we'll meet up and take care of this Hadriana."

"Cullen, why would we need Cullen?" Fenris snapped, unhappy to hear the templar's name on Hawke's lips.

"Yes, you say this Hadriana is Danarius' apprentice; then chances are she's a blood mage, right?" Fenris nodded. "Then we'd be smart to have another warrior with us, especially one with templar skills. Aveline is gone with the viscount until the end of the week, and Isabella said she was going to be leaving in the morning. Cullen is the only alternative."

"Why not just recruit another templar?"

"I don't trust any other templars around Anders. We need Anders there in case one of us is injured, and…" she sighed, "and to keep an eye on me. I'm not sure how good I'll be in a fight right now without Anders there to constantly rejuvenate me." She looked up at him and smiled, "Besides, we're half drunk, and I'd rather not tear off after blood mages until I'm sober."

Fenris sighed and nodded. "Fine, you're right; it's just..."

"I know, Fenris; we won't let her get away." Hawke held her hand up to his cheek. "She's not going to hurt us, either of us, ever again."

-0-

The Gallows loomed dark and menacing in the first rays of the morning sun as Sophia sat on the edge of the boat, watching as the prison grew larger and larger in front of her. It was the first time in more than two years that she had crossed that harbor. After two years of staring at the Gallows from the quiet of the docks, Hawke still wasn't ready to set foot in that building again. That boat ride that had always seemed so long in the past, now suddenly was over before Sophia was ready.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sophia straightened her shoulders and strolled into the Gallows. The courtyard was empty of vendors and mages in the early hours of the morning, which made it all the more foreboding. In fact, there were only a hand full of templars were even out, patrolling the area. "Good morning, my Lady," one of them said, crossing the courtyard to meet her. "Is there something we can do for you this morning?"

"I need to speak with the Knight-Captain, Cullen. Is there any way one of you could get him for me?" she asked, trying not to let her eyes travel up to the imposing battlements looming over her.

"Is there a problem? The Knight-Captain is quite busy. If you need templar assistance any one of us can assist you, Lady…"

"Hawke, my name is Sophia Hawke; I'm friend of Cullen's. Is he around?"

"I can get him," a blonde templar said, coming up beside them. "Did you say your name is Hawke?" Sophia nodded. The blonde turned to the first templar, "Trust me, Cullen will want to see her."

Sophia's eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The blonde smiled, "No, but I've heard about you. I'm Barry," he said, extending his hand. "Cullen is one of my friends. I'll take you in to see him."

Hawke tensed up at the prospect of actually going inside the prison. "That's alright. I don't mind waiting, but I am in a hurry."

"I'll be quick then," Barry said turning and disappearing back inside. Hawke sighed and stared up at the walls of the Gallows, wondering if Bethany was up there, looking down at her. How would she react, seeing her sister there after all this time? She couldn't imagine Bethany would want to see her, not after Sophia had avoided her for two years. How could she just show up now? What would she say? "Hey, Sis, I nearly died, and when I was unconscious, I saw Dad and Carver, and that made me want to see you again?" "Wow, has it been two years; I guess I got busy and forgot to visit?" There was really no excuse, and Sophia knew it. Lucky for her, Cullen arrived only a few minutes later to distract her.

"Hawke, what is it? Barry said you needed me."

Sophia smiled up at him. "Thank you for coming, I know you said you had a patrol or something this morning, but do you think you could get someone to cover it. I need your help."

"Of course, anything. What happened?"

"Fenris and I got attacked by Tevinter slavers last night, and we're…"

"Slavers?" Cullen shouted, grabbing her and turning to look at her. "Are you alright; did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Cullen. We managed to take them out, but we found out that they were here with a magister to collect Fenris. He's used to be a slave to a magister in Tevinter," she said when Cullen gave her a confused look. "He escaped his former master, but Danarius is still looking for him. Anyway, the magister the slave hunters were with is likely a blood mage, so I was hoping that you could help us."

"A blood mage," Cullen's eyes narrowed. "Wait just a moment, I'll get a team together."

"No," she said, catching him by the arm before he could walk away. "I'd rather it just be you." She glanced around and leaned in, lowering her voice, "Anders is going with us, so I'd prefer it if there weren't any other templars there."

"You're taking Anders? Are you sure that's a good idea; bringing him around blood mages?"

Sophia laughed. "You can't catch blood magic, Cullen. You have to make a conscious decision to learn it, and Anders isn't going to do that. I'd say blood magic doesn't work well if you're a healer; they tend to work in contention with one another. Now if he was schooled in say, entropy, well, then I'd think twice about exposing him to blood magic." Cullen glanced down at her, obviously surprised by her knowledge of magic. "Sister to an apostate, remember? I used to listen do Father and Bethany talk about magic all the time. So do you think you can help?"

"Yes, Hawke, of course; there's no way I'd let you leave now, knowing you'd be going up against a blood mage. Let me grab a few things and we'll be off," he said as he strolled off into the Gallows. He was only gone a few minutes before he returned, his full templar armor on, and a sword and shield strapped to his back. Hawke nodded to him, and together the two headed for the harbors and away from the Gallows.

-0-

_I know that I'm repeating a scene, so I'm sorry about that. I just thought Fenris' emotions and motivation were an important part of this section. Beware, the rating may change in the next chapter or two, so you may need to change your settings._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update (hopefully every two weeks – that's my goal). I'm starting a new job, so we'll see how much time I have. Maybe I should just shorten my chapters a bit. Anyway, hope you enjoy, keep letting me know what you think._


	8. Bitter Sweet

The sun was still hanging low in the sky when Hawke and her party reached the old slaver holding caves outside of the city. It hadn't been a long walk by stretch of the word, Maker knows she's pushed herself much harder in the past, but that day, Hawke was definitely beginning to feel it. She was still recovering from the aftermath of the attack, and Anders had only let her out of the house a few days ago with strict orders to take it easy for a few days before returning to her regular routine. She was pretty sure that traipsing around outside the city, taking out the occasional band of slave hunters wasn't exactly what he had in mind. In fact, every few minutes or whenever Sophia would fall a step or two behind or take a heavier than usual breath or clear her throat or blink for too long, the mage would throw her a concerned but irritated glance her way before muttering some incantation to give her a little boost. He was smart enough not to question her, however; she was clearly too focused on the task at hand to worry about herself. The constant flow of healing and rejuvenating magic was clearly putting their resident templar on edge; every time Anders would cast a spell, Cullen would turn and glare at him, his hand reflexively moving toward his sword. Sophia had never realized just how jumpy the templar was around mages, but it was clear that Anders' presence was making Cullen very uneasy.

The templar and the mage weren't the only members of the party whose nerves were on edge. The whole situation had Fenris so anxious that he could barely stand still; he just kept pushing the party harder and harder, completely oblivious to Hawke's struggles. For her part, Sophia didn't seem to mind. She understood how upsetting this was for Fenris, so her entire attention was focused on the elf's discomfort meaning that, like Fenris, she completely ignored her own pain, only looking out for what was best for him. He wasn't intentionally neglecting her; she realized that. But the demons from his past were screaming so loudly that they drowned out any of her soft grunts of pain. Her pain was nothing compared to the agony that was tearing at him, and Sophia was determined to do everything in her power to help him. After all, she understood the pain

The party had just reached the caves and, on Varric's insistence, was taking a breather before heading into the caves. Sophia immediately sat down, holding her head in her hands as she caught her breath. Varric strolled over to her and plopped down beside her. "You feelin alright, there, Legs?" he asked as he thrust a water skin into her hands. "You're about as pale as I've ever seen you, and remember I spent three weeks in the deep roads with you."

Hawke rolled her eyes as she smiled down at the dwarf. "I'm fine, just a bit winded. Don't worry about me."

Varric grunted in response. "If you say so…just watch yourself in there, Hawke; I don't like the smell of this one."

Cullen nodded in agreement. "Me either, there's dark magic in these caves; it feels like…" he took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. "It smells like the tower in Ferelden during the mages' rebellion, teaming with blood and magic."

"We knew we were likely going up against that coming into this. We've dealt with blood mages before."

"But these Tevinter magisters are a different breed of blood mage. They don't have to hide it up there like the mages here do," Fenris said, coming over to the party. "They relish the power blood magic gives them; they wield it as easily as you wild a blade, Hawke, and the longer we give them, the more dangerous they become. She knows that we are coming for her, and she will be ready for us. Besides that, these caves were designed to prevent raids by other slavers, so we must be careful."

"I'm sorry Fenris; I was just stopping to catch my breath. I'm ready now." She glanced up at the elf who was pacing nervously outside the mouth of the cave. "Don't worry Fenris; Hadriana is not going to escape us."

"I just hope this wasn't a waste of time," was his only reply before turning and leading them into the caves.

"Maybe you should stay back here with us," Varric said. "You know, let the two big guys with big swords take on most of the hand to hand stuff."

Hawke shook her head. "No, V, I'll be fine." She glanced toward the back of the elf's head. "Besides, he needs me right now, and I refuse to let another person I care about down because I wasn't strong enough when they needed me."

-0-

Fenris had been correct in his assessment of the holding caves. They as secure a place as Sophia had ever been, and every room had been full of mages and guards, ready to kill any who dared approach. Sophia followed silently, offering up no comment as Fenris raged about the injustices of the Tevinter mages. It was a ghastly sight, blood and bodies everywhere, and red-eyed mages, with blood dripping from their hands, summoning all manner of demon to throw at them. Seeing their work first hand, Sophia truly began to understand Fenris' hatred for those who possessed magic. How could one escape from such an environment without a little bitterness? It's a wonder he could tolerate Anders and Merrill's presence at all.

Sophia's fury came to ahead, however, when they encountered their first and only survivor. She was a young elfin girl, who couldn't have been any older than fifteen and was huddled in the corner of a large, bloody room. The moment Hawke saw her, blood spatter staining the young girl's cream dress; she ran to her side, Fenris hot on her heals.

Kneeling beside her, Hawke gently lifted her chin. "Are you alright," she asked as kindly and softly as possible. The elf trembled under Hawke's touch but didn't draw away. "Don't worry; I'm not going to hurt you."

"Are you hurt? Did they touch you?" Fenris growled, looking down at the girl over Sophia's shoulder, and Hawke had to fight the urge to tell him to bugger off.

The girl shook her head as tears filled her green eyes. "They've been killing everyone," she sobbed into her hands as Hawke put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They cut Papa, bleed him…Papa." She dissolved into tears again.

"Why; why would they do this?" Hawke whispered, turning to look at Fenris.

"It was the Magister; she said she needed power, that someone was coming to kill her," the girl whispered, looking up at Hawke. Behind her, she heard Fenris' sudden intake of breath, and it took every ounce of willpower Sophia had to keep her attention on the young elven girl. She knew Fenris was likely blaming himself for this. "We tried to be good," the young girl continued. "We did everything we were told." The elf glanced quickly over to Fenris then back at Sophia. "She loved Papa's soup. I don't understand what we did wrong."

Sophia took the young girl in her arms. "What's your name, dear?" she asked as she gently stroked the girl's back.

"Orana," the elf whispered.

"Orana, you have done nothing wrong. Do you understand that? I know this has been terrible for you, but believe me when I tell you; this was not your fault. It is Hadriana's," Hawke said, hoping that Fenris was listening as well.

"No, it couldn't be; she liked us. Everything was fine until today."

"No it wasn't," Fenris said, kneeling down beside Hawke and taking Orana's hand. "You just didn't know better."

Orana looked up at Fenris then back to Hawke. "Are you my Mistress now?" she said, the fear clear in her voice. Hawke leapt to her feet, stuttering slightly in protest. "But I can cook, and I can clean. My soup isn't as good as Papa's, but I can get better. I promise I will be good, please. What else will I do once you've killed her? I can do whatever you ask, please."

Sophia's heart broke as she looked down at the poor girl, begging at her feet. There was no way that Orana would make it on her own with her master and family all gone. She could give the young woman money and send her on her way, but how would she fair, suddenly finding herself alone in the world. Sophia couldn't help picturing her, forced to work in the Blooming Rose or someplace worse, and Hawke wasn't about to let that happen. Taking a deep breath, Sophia smiled down at the girl. "Do you think you could find your way to Kirkwall?" Orana smiled and nodded. "Good, go to the marketplace and ask one of the guards to give you directions to the Hawke estate. My mother and the two dwarves who work for me should be home, just tell them that Sophia sent you."

The young elf's face brightened, and she gave Sophia a deep bow. "Oh, thank you, Mistress. I will be good, I promise," she said as she ran from the cave. Hawke smiled as she watched the girl go.

"I didn't realize you were in the market for a slave," Fenris snarled, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around so suddenly that the three other men in their party all took a step toward them.

"I gave her a job, Fenris," Hawke said as calmly as possible, trying to keep from blowing up in his face. Did her seriously believe that she would enslave that poor girl; after everything they had been through, did he not know her at all? "I didn't think we had to time to explain the concept of freedom and the differences between servants and slaves. I thought you had a blood mage to kill."

"Right…then…my apologies Hawke; I just…"

"Drop it," she hissed, pushing past him to rejoin the others. "Let's go; I'm suddenly very interested in meeting this Hadriana."

-0-

The rest of the morning was a long and bloody affair as Hawke and her party continued to battle their way to Hadriana, and the long day of fighting was finally beginning to take its toll on Hawke (even with Anders' constant healing and rejuvenation spells). She could feel the strain the fighting was beginning to have on her already strained lungs as each breath became slightly more difficult, but she didn't want to say anything that would draw attention to herself. Instead, she simply buckled down and tried her best to mask her struggles. So when they finally found Hadriana, Sophia was anything but prepared.

The rogue had gone up against blood mages before, but for some reason, the mages they encountered on previous occasions had always focused their attention on Fenris or Aveline, perhaps the fact that Hawke was always hidden in the shadows had something to do with it. However, that wasn't the case today. They had been fighting Hadriana and her personal guards for a while, with Cullen, Fenris, and Sophia all working side by side in the thick of things while Anders and Varric attacked from a distance. She had just managed to take down a particularly nasty shade, when Sophia was caught off guard by a sudden pommel strike to the side of the head. It wasn't anything serious. A guard had simply caught her in the helmet with the pommel of his sword, but the impact made a loud, nasty thud, which caused Fenris to turn quickly and look for her. The sudden show of concern must have registered with the blood mage because the moment Fenris turned his attention elsewhere, Hadriana's was suddenly on her.

Sophia could feel it the instant the spell hit her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Suddenly, it felt like there was a vice clamped around her chest, tightening slowly. The spell was two-fold because a few moments later, Sophia's entire body went rigid as pulses of pain began to course through her. It was completely overwhelming. Never before had she been in pain like this; it was as if the very blood in her veins was beginning to boil. The world around her began to grow dark and hazy as the blood roared in her ears. Vaguely she could hear Varric shouting at Cullen to do something, but she couldn't make out anything specific.

Across the room, the templar was taking out one of Hadriana's mages when he heard the dwarf shouting at him to help Hawke, so he began desperately looking for her. She was standing in the middle of the room, her body stiff as the magic pulsed over her. Shouting for Anders to step back, Cullen quickly pulled on his templar abilities, dispelling the magic that was attacking Hawke. The instant the spell was lifted, Hawke collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Varric was at her side in an instant, standing protectively over her as Cullen turned his attention to the mage whose eyes were still fixed on the raven haired woman. Her hands began to glow red as she began to summon the will to cast another spell. Cullen didn't hesitate. Throwing his arms in front of him and pulling from the last remnants of his strength, Cullen threw a holy smite at the mage, staggering her just enough to stop the spell. Fenris instantly moved in for the kill, and Cullen turned his attention back to Hawke.

The raven-haired rogue was slowly beginning to come around as the sounds of battle slowly began to die down around her. Breathing was still difficult, but at least she didn't feel like she was about to burst into flames any time soon. She lifted her head to look around, relieved to see that between Cullen and Fenris, the situation was clearly under control.

"Here," Varric said, thrusting a small bottle into her hands between shots. "Anders is screaming for me to get a potion in you."

Hawke downed the drink and tried to get to her feet, only to be pushed back down by the toe of Varric's boot. "You're not going anywhere, Legs; not until Blondie clears you."

Sophia tried to protest, but she found it quite impossible on account of the violent coughing fit that had momentarily debilitated her. Looking down into her handkerchief, she was unsurprised to find that it was stained with bright red blood; she had definitely torn the newly-healed injuries to her lungs, and the blood loss and lack of oxygen was making her feel a bit light-headed. As the last enemy fell, Sophia felt herself being pulled to her feet as a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist, holding her up. She glanced up to see Cullen looking down at her, the concern evident in his eyes. Anders joined them an instant later, his hands glowing as he examined her.

"Hawke…"

"I know," she said weakly, giving him a sheepish smile. "You can fuss at me while you heal me; I deserve it." Anders just shook his head, placing one hand on her chest, the other on her back as he poured healing magic into her lungs.

"You nearly got yourself killed, you know that right? I knew you should have stayed back with us. I shouldn't have let you come at all, should have made you stay home…" Anders muttered both to her and to himself as he continued to pour magic into her. The rogue nodded in agreement, leaning heavily on the templar as her healer finished his work. Sophia's head was starting to clear as breathing began to ease; it was at that moment that she realized Fenris wasn't there. She glanced around the room, looking for her elven companion. He was stalking back and forth in the corner of the room, his attention focused solely on the mage in front of him. "Fenris," she whispered, and she felt Cullen's arm tighten around her.

The templar sighed almost inaudibly and looked down at the woman in his arms for a moment before leading her over to the elf. The magister was pleading with Fenris, attempting to bargain for her life, but from what Hawke could see, the chances weren't good. There wasn't much in this world he wanted more than her death. The elf raised his sword, about to end the mage once and for all, when Hadriana said something that nearly made Fenris drop his sword. "You have a sister; she is alive."

Sophia's eyes locked on Fenris' face, and she was pained to see the combination of shock and horror that passed over his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared down at the mage. "You wish to reclaim your life; let me go and I will tell you where she is."

"How do we know you're even telling the truth," Sophia hissed, and for the first time since the fighting had ended, Fenris looked over at her. She expected, well, she wasn't sure what exactly she expected to see, but the anger and hate he seemed to emanate, even when he turned to look at her, definitely wasn't it. Sophia was so shocked by the look on his face that she took an involuntary step back, bringing her closer to Cullen.

Hadriana watched the brief exchange with a sadistic smile on her face. "You don't, but I know Fenris. And I know what he's searching for, what he truly wants. He may think he's found happiness here, but I would say he'd sacrifice it all to reclaim what he's lost." she said, looking at Sophia. "I can give him that without making him sacrifice a thing, but if he wants me to betray Danarius, he'll have to pay for it."

Sophia took a step toward Fenris, reaching out and touching Fenris on the arm, trying her best to ignore the way he flinched at her touch. "Fenris, this is your call." His green eye glared at her for a moment before he stepped toward the mage who had tormented him for so long. He knelt down and looked he woman in the eye.

"So I have your word? I tell you and you let me go." Fenris nodded. "Her name is Varania. She is working in Corenas as a servant for a magister named Ahriman."

Fenris' eyes narrowed. "A servant, not a slave?" he asked, relief evident in his voice.

Hadriana shook her. "Not a slave."

The tattooed lines in his skin began to glow. "I believe you," he said, looking down at her one last time before he drew his arm back and thrust it deep into the mage's chest. She didn't have a chance to react; she just gasped one last time, looking up at her former slave before falling lifelessly to the ground. Fenris didn't even watch her fall; he simply stood up and turned away. As he turned to toward the door, his eyes momentarily fell on Sophia, glaring down at the templar's hand that was still resting on her hip as he held her up. She could see the fury in his eyes intensify and moved to step toward him, but Cullen's arm tightened, holding her back. "Let's go," he said, brushing past the two humans. "We're done here."

"Fenris, do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he snapped, turning around and practically getting in her face. She was so startled by the way he turned on her that she involuntarily took a step back, bringing back against the templar's chest. "I don't want to talk about it. This could be a trap. Danarius could have sent Hadriana here to tell me about this sister. Even if he didn't, trying to find her would still be suicide. There's no doubt Danarius knows, and he knows that Hadriana knows." He shook his head angrily. "All that matters is that I finally got to crush that bitch's heart. May she rot," he growled, turning away from her. "And all the other mages with her."

Sophia couldn't stop herself. It was clear he was hurting, that he was struggling with himself, and all she wanted to do was be there for him. It was clear enough that he was frustrated with her, for what she had no idea, but it didn't stop her from wanting to take him in her arms, to assure him that things would be alright, that they would get through it together. She pushed away from Cullen and followed Fenris, catching him by the shoulder before he got out of her reach. "Fenris, maybe we…"

"No," he barked, shrugging her hand off his shoulder and spinning around. "You saw what happened her, what happened to those slaves. There will always be some reason that mages have to do this to people, and you're too blind to see it, Hawke. How many times have you defended the very people who do these things?" He shook his head angrily. "I doesn't matter. Even if I found my sister, there's no telling what they've done to her. What does magic touch that it doesn't spoil?"

"I know, Fenris, just please…"

But he wasn't listening. "I need to go," he muttered to himself, and without another word, he disappeared from the room, leaving a stunned Hawke behind him. After a moment's hesitation, she moved to follow him, to keep him from leaving her, but the last of her strength was gone, and she would have collapsed to the floor again if Cullen hadn't been there to catch her. She stood there in the templar's strong arms, fighting back the sob that was threatening to escape.

"Hawke, are you…"

"I'm fine," she sighed, cutting him off before he could get the question out. Glancing up at him, she was moved by the obvious concern in his eyes. Shaking her head, she turned to look toward the door Fenris had disappeared through.

"Do you want me to go after him, Hawke?" Varric asked as he and Anders walked up to them.

Sophia shook her head, a sickening feeling creeping up in her stomach. "He's too fast; you'd never catch him. I just hope…" She sighed, "Never mind, let's just get out of here."

The walk back to Kirkwall was nearly as quiet and somber as the walk from the city. No one was willing to discuss the issue that was clearly distressing Hawke, and she was definitely not giving voice to her fears. She just hoped that Fenris wasn't planning anything rash, that he would still be in the city when they got back.

After checking to make sure Sophia was alright, Cullen said goodbye as they entered the city, explaining to Hawke that he needed to report that day's events to Meredith. Varric too disappeared, explaining that he had some pressing matters he needed to attend to but assuring Hawke that he would swing by the next day to check on her. Hawke insisted that she didn't need to be checked on to which the dwarf simply rolled his eyes and repeated that he would see her tomorrow. That left her with only Anders at her side.

"I suppose you too have some pressing matters to attend to."

Anders nodded, "Yes I do." He looked down at her and grinned. "You." Hawke started to protest, but the mage held up a hand to stop her. "Don't bother. You need to rest, but I know full well you will be running all over the city looking for that elf. You are in no condition to do so alone, so here I am, set to follow you around for as long as you need."

Sophia smiled up at the mage, tears threatening to build up in her eyes. "Thank you, Anders."

"So where do you think he's gone?"

Hawke thought about it for a second then sighed. "The only place he really ever goes is that mansion of his. I can't think of anywhere else he'd go."

Anders smiled. "So we'll start there."

He wasn't there; of course he wasn't there. Hawke knew before they even set foot in his mansion that they would find it empty, but that didn't stop her from being disappointed when her feelings were confirmed. Numbly, she moved from room to room, hoping to find some indication as to where the elf might have gone, but she found nothing.

"Do you think he's left?" she asked glancing up at Anders, voicing her deepest fear. "I mean, for real left. There's nothing holding him here, not really; what if he's…"

Anders put an arm around her and pulled her close. "I think he's got something holding him here; believe me, I saw the way he acted when you were injured. I don't think he would just up and leave without saying anything to you." He glanced around the room Fenris used as a bedroom. "But who can tell in this place? It's not exactly like he had a lot of possessions."

Hawke was about to respond when something across the room caught her eye. It was the only spot in the room that wasn't covered in a fine layer of dust, and Sophia instantly knew why. Her heart sank. Walking across the room to the bedside table, Sophia ran her finger along the straight, clean lines in the dust, a shadow of the object that once set there.

"Hawke, what is it?"

"Fenris' book, the one I gave him about the life of Shartan; it's set right here for two years," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I've been helping him learn to read ever since I gave it to him so that he would be able to read it on his own. He's gone, Anders; he's really gone."

"Hawke, I…"

Sophia didn't stay to hear what the mage had to say; she didn't want any comfort right now. She just needed to be alone. Pushing past him and summoning the last of her strength, Sophia ran past him and into the cool Hightown evening. She didn't exactly have a destination in mind, but somehow her feet led her back to the familiarity of the docks. He had left her; after everything that had happened, he had just left Kirkwall, left her. She was a fool to think that those kisses had meant anything to him, even though they had meant the world to her. It was her proof that she was ready to move on, to quit punishing herself for Carver, for Bethany, for Father. Now it was gone and she was alone again.

She stayed there, staring out over the Gallows until night fell over the city. Only then did she find the will to go back home. The trip home was uneventful as Hawke moved from shadow to shadow, avoiding the guards and bands of ruffians who moved through the street. Once she was inside, she quickly stripped her armor off, not caring where it fell. Sandal would find it in the morning and take care of it, right now, a warm bath and bed where the only things on her mind.

"Messere," Bodhan said, stepping out of his room as Hawke reached the top steps. "There's an elf here, she says you sent her."

"I did, Bodhan. Just make sure she eats and gets a good night's sleep. Tell her that I'll talk to her in the morning, I'm just too tired now."

"Very good, ma'am. Your friend is in the library; he's been waiting for you for some time, but if you're too tired, I'll just send him…"

"My friend?" Sophia said, turning to look back down the stairs at him. "What fri…" She stopped short when Fenris appeared in the doorway, looking up at her. "I thought you'd left."

Fenris moved past the dwarf in one fluid motion and joined Sophia at the top of the stairs. "I'm still here, Hawke. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have left like that."

"I was so worried, I thought…well obviously I was wrong." She smiled for a moment before glancing down at Bodhan. "Thank you, Bodhan, I'll see you in the morning." The dwarf nodded and disappeared back into his room as Hawke turned her attention back to the elf in front of her. "I'm so glad you're here. The way you took off back there; I was afraid that maybe…"

Fenris shook his head and stepped up to Hawke, closing the distance between them. "I thought about leaving, but I couldn't. I couldn't leave you." Sophia felt her heart flutter as Fenris reached out his hand and cupped her cheek. "I took out my anger on you even after all that you'd done for me. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry. I saw you with Cullen and…"

"Cullen was just helping me stay on my feet, Fenris. I was in no condition to be fighting in the first place, and then I got hit with one of Hadriana's spells."

"I know, Hawke. I could see that you were struggling; I just…I was so focused on getting to her; I didn't stop to think. Can you forgive me?"

Sophia didn't respond. Instead she simply leaned into his touch, closing her eyes to savor the way his cool fingers felt on her warm skin. Fenris smiled down at her as he traced small circles on her cheek with his thumb. After a moment she opened her eyes to look up at him. "I didn't know where you went, and when I went to your home and saw you book missing, I just assumed."

Fenris smiled and reached out to take Sophia's hand. Leading her into her bedchamber, he pointed to her bedside table. There was his book, sitting just beside her bed. "I tried to start reading it while you were recovering. It made me feel closer to you somehow." He turned back to her, taking her face in his hands. "I didn't mean to worry you, Hawke; I just needed some time, to process everything." Sighing, he dropped his hands and strolled over to the fireplace and looked into the warm, dancing flames. "When I was a slave, Hadriana was a torment to me; she would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep. Because of her status, I was powerless to respond, to resist, and she knew it." He turned to look at Hawke, his green eyes blazing. "The thought of her slipping through my grasp now. I couldn't let her go; I wanted to, but I couldn't."

Hawke blinked up at him. "I don't understand; after all she did, why would you even consider letting her go?"

"It was the hate; it had been so long since I had felt it, I thought I had gotten away from it. But it dogs me wherever I go. Somehow with you I had managed to forget how it felt to be so consumed by hate, so when she showed up and those feelings came flooding back…it was too much to bear. I never wanted to feel that kind of hate again, Hawke, so I wasn't ready to deal with it. I didn't want to be driven by my hate, yet at the same time, I couldn't bear the thought of letting her go. That's why I took my anger out on you. When I saw the hurt look on your face when I snapped at you, knowing it was I who hurt you, it was just too much; I had to get away so that I wouldn't hurt you again." He turned back to the fire. "All I was thinking was 'Once again, here I go lashing out and hurting the people who are trying to help me' just like I did with the Fog Warriors. I couldn't bear to do that to you. That why I left, why I should leave even now. I don't want you to see me like this, not again."

"Fenris," Sophia said, reaching out and taking his arm. She never said whatever it was that she intended to say because the moment her fingers touched his skin, Fenris' tattoos flared up, and he spun around to face her, capturing her lips with his. She had neither the time nor the will to resist; she simply melted into his touch, letting his strong arms hold her up. His hands were suddenly everywhere, moving under her shirt as he pulled her body flush to his. The sharp angles of his armor caught her by surprise, and she yipped in pain as their bodies slammed together. Fenris growled in frustration and began pulling the metal armor off him, letting it clatter haphazardly to the floor. In a matter of moments he had rid himself of all his armor and was back into her arms before she had a chance to catch her breath.

They had been close only the night before, but this was the first time Sophia could really feel the heat radiating off of the elf's skin. The combination of the warmth of his skin and the cool of his lyrium bands was intoxicating, and Hawke groaned, wordlessly begging for more. Fenris was only too happy to oblige. Soon the padding and thin linens that both fighters wore beneath their armor joined the casually strewn pieces of Fenris' armor on the ground, and Hawke was finally able to really look at Fenris. He was beautiful, with cool blue and white lines swirling in intricate patterns across his chest and down the chiseled plane of his stomach, the lines disappearing beneath the small cloths he still wore.

Sophia's breath caught as her eyes followed the blue lyrium lines down his stomach to the large bulge in the front of his smalls. She was no blushing virgin, not by any means; she'd had her share of love affairs during her youth in Lothering, but it had been years since she had been with a man. Not since Ostagar, in fact. Much to her brother's dismay, Sophia had gotten involved with a soldier from Dragon's Peak who had been assigned to their company, and the two had spent the last night before that disastrous battle tucked away together in her tent. But that was over four years ago, four years since she had last felt the touch of a man, and she couldn't deny the mixture of nerves and excitement that washed over her as she pulled her eyes up to meet his green eyes, dark with desire.

The moment their eyes met, Fenris moved, closing any distance between them in less than a second, pulling her small, curvy body against his, latching onto her neck as he lifted her and carried her to the bed. His lips never left her skin as he laid her gently down and positioned himself above her. Sophia's hands moved up his back and fisted in his hair as his lips began to work their way down her body. Gasping, Sophia's back arched off the bed as Fenris captured one of her breasts in his mouth as he caressed the other with his hand. Fire shot through the rogue, filling her with desire; she breathed deep, taking in the cool, spicy sent of this man. Closing her eyes, Sophia threw her head back, allowing Fenris full access to her body as he continued his feverous exploration of her.

Sophia groaned in frustration when he suddenly took his lips off her skin. "Enjoyed that, did you," he teased before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Sophia's lips immediately parted, allowing him entrance as their tongues fought for dominance in a kiss that left them both completely breathless. She thrust her hips us to meet his covered erection, causing them to both groan at the sensation. Beneath her fingers, the muscles on his back tightened as he thrust into her, meeting her gyrations with those of his own. The sensation itself was nearly her undoing. "Marker," she thought as he moved against her, "I'm going to come undone before we do anything."

Pulling back for a moment, Sophia's sapphire eyes met his emerald ones. "Take me, Fenris. I need you inside me." He grinned and, in a moment had, divested them of the final pieces of clothing that had separated them. Positioning himself over her, he looked down at her one last time, and she nodded. A moment later, he was in her, filling her to the hilt as his long, slow thrusts sent shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body. He made love the way he fought, powerfully, with almost practiced precision, and seemingly endless stamina. Maker, never before had she felt so complete, so whole. It was perfect, the way their bodies fit together, the way they moved in perfect synchronicity, the way he filled her so completely. It felt so right. She had wanted this for so long, and now – completion. She felt a final wave of pleasure building up in her stomach as Fenris' thrusts became faster and more erratic. Throwing her head back, Sophia let herself go, allowing the ecstasy to wash over her as her muscles clamped around Fenris' length. He growled in response and after a few more thrusts spilled his seed deep into her and collapsed beside her.

Sophia sighed contentedly and curled up next to her elven warrior, her head resting on his chest as a feeling of perfect contentment washed over her. For the first time in years, the young woman felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her, as if the guilt she had been carrying for so long was suddenly gone. Whatever she had been lacking in her world, she had it now. Lying there beside him feeling completely at ease and protected, the full toll of the day's events finally began to catch up with her. More than anything, she wanted to talk to him about what had happened both in the caves and between them tonight, to assure him that he was safe with her, to simply enjoy the feel of his arms around her, but her traitorous eyelids had other plans. They grew heavy and pulled her into a deep and sated sleep before she could so much as say good night to her elven lover.

The man beside her, however, was not as fortunate in his rest. Their evening together did not bring him the peace he had believed it would; if anything, it made everything more confusing. Looking down at the woman in his arms, all he could see were flashes of memories, memories of a little girl with her red hair pulled up into pigtails, chasing him around a kitchen while a dark-haired woman laughed as she watched them play. Flashes of fields and flowers, flashes of a life before Danarius, a life he had long since forgotten. They were there, all his memories, just for a moment and then…nothing.

On some level, he knew that being with Hawke had triggered those memories, so he should have been grateful for it. But he wasn't. He was just more lost than ever before. The feelings of grief for the life he had lost coupled with the feelings he was having for Hawke were just too much for the poor elf to deal with; he had no idea how to begin to sort them out. He didn't want to hurt Hawke, not after all she had been through, but the thought of losing those memories night after night was a devastating prospect for him. Sparing the woman one final look, Fenris stole out of her bed and began to collect his things, trying desperately to ignore the pain shooting through his heart as he realized what he was about to give up.

-o-

Okay, so it's been three weeks. I did try, I promise, but I was swamped every night and all weekend last week. Work is starting to even out a bit, so hopefully, I'll fall back into my old pattern of writing. Anyway, I know this is publicized as a Hawke/Cullen story, and I swear it's coming, but the Fenris element is really important for where I'm taking this, so Cullen fans, please bear with me. I hate using in-game dialogue, but in scenes like this, it's almost unavoidable. I just hope it wasn't too much.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with me. I hope you all are enjoying it!


	9. A Refugee's Refuge

Nearly a week passed before Sophia was ready to leave her estate; ever since Fenris had abandoned her, all she really wanted to do was stay in her room and stare at the wall. In her darker moments, she could still feel the tickle of his breath on her neck, the caress of his cool, strong fingers on her skin. She knew she was being weak and in a lot of way pathetic, but in all honesty, she couldn't bring herself to care. She was devastated, wholly and completely devastated. The pain that was still lingering in her chest from the daggers of the mage's fiancé was nothing compared to the over whelming pain she was feeling now. Ever since Fenris had informed her that their relationship was too confusing for him, Sophia couldn't bring herself to leave the house lest she be forced to face him and confront the heartache she was feeling. It wasn't that she loved the former slave, at least not yet, but there was a part of her that knew she could eventually love him if he would only let her. Hell, she'd had a crush on him for the past three years; of course his rejection was painful.

It was confusing to her as well. After all, it had been Fenris who had made the first move; he had been the one to initiate their first kiss, the one who had shown up in her home that night. And yet, he had been the one to leave her before the sun had even risen over the city because he suddenly found their relationship to be too complicated and confusing. It hadn't confusing to him while he was hovering at her side during her recovery; it had been simple. Not anymore. Now everything complicated, and complicated wasn't what Hawke needed right now. She needed simplicity; she needed stability; she needed someone she could depend on; and she thought that Fenris was going to be that somebody. She didn't realize just how much she had come to rely on him, how much she was investing in him and their blooming relationship until he pulled the rug out from under her.

As a result, she had spiraled down into a rather dark place, a darker place than she had been when she had lost Carver, her father, or Bethany. On some level she knew that it wasn't just about Fenris, but his rejection was the last straw, the final blow that broke her completely.

Glancing toward the window, Sophia let out a quiet sigh. It was nearly noon, and if his consistent visits over the last seven days were any indication, Varric would be over any minute. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his concern; she did. She loved the dwarf for making it his own personal mission to pull her out of this funk; she just didn't think she was up for a visit from him or anyone else just now.

Unbeknownst to Sophia, he had shown up only a few hours after Fenris left, expecting to deliver some bad news to her that the day he had spent scouring Lowtown and Darktown for any sign of the elf had been to no avail. When he arrived at the Hawke estate, however, Bodhan informed him that Fenris had been waiting for Hawke when she arrived home and that the two had spent the night in her room. A relieved Varric had made his way up to her room, fully expecting to find a cheerful and happy Hawke and an equally cheerful Fenris, but the otherwise empty room and the dejected look on her face the moment he entered her room told him everything he needed to know.

Much to Sophia's surprise, Varric didn't say anything, didn't try to joke and lighten the mood; he just closed the door behind him and made his way over to her bed to sit beside her. Without saying a word, he simply handed her a flask from inside his cloak.

Sophia raised a tired eyebrow at him. "Whiskey before noon? That's awfully early, even for a dwarf."

Varric grinned as he pulled a second flask out of his cloak. "It's gotta be after fifth bell somewhere in Thedas." He took a long swig and nodded toward hers. "Besides, sometimes it's better to knock one back that to stay knocked on yours."

"I'll drink to that," Sophia said bitterly as she took a long drink, letting the numbing feeling of the alcohol start to wash over her. They sat there in silence for a while, letting the alcohol dull the pain for a while before Hawke told the dwarf the entire story.

"Look, Hawke; I know this isn't exactly what you want to hear, but give him some time. I'm sure he'll come around."

Sophia shook her head as she threw back another drink. "You don't understand. He doesn't want to take things slowly or anything like that; he doesn't even want to bother, doesn't even what to work on it, and that's the part that hurts. He doesn't want anything to do with me. After all this, after all we've been through, he's not even willing to give us a chance. He's afraid of…well I'm not sure what he's afraid of, but whatever it is, it's clear to me that he doesn't think I'm worth the effort."

"You're worth the effort, Hawke," Varric said shaking his head. "Besides, I don't think that's the case, and you know it. Fenris just hasn't been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know how to handle things when they get confusing. Your remember what it was like back in those first awkward relationships. You learn how to deal with conflicting feelings and what not; he's not had that. Give him some time. He'll come to realize what's important."

Sophia, though, simply wasn't convinced. In her eyes, Fenris had made it quite clear that he wasn't interested in attempting to make the relationship work, and Hawke wasn't the kind of woman who would push the issue. But this wasn't something that she would get over easily or quickly, and Varric seemed to know it. That was why he had stopped by her house every day for the past week, and he wasn't alone. Anders, Isabella, and even Aveline had all made regular visits to the Hawke estate, each trying to cheer her up in their own unique way. Anders would focus on healing her physical pains, easing the tension in her back and massaging away her headaches. Isabella seemed to think ale and dirty novels would pull her out of her funk. In fact, the pirate had taken great pleasure in reading the racier parts of her books aloud whenever Hawke's mother entered the room (a practice that _did_ lift Hawke's spirits, if only for a while). Aveline's methods, however, had been downright confusing for Sophia. On the day after Varric's initial visit, Aveline had shown up with a small iron coin with an engraving of a castle on one side and oak trees on the other. Sophia looked at it for a moment before giving the guard captain a small smile and thanking her.

"You understand it, right? Oak trees are the strongest trees in Ferelden. They've been known to be the only trees standing after a hard winter or a bad storm, and the castle, well, I just assumed that was self explanatory."

"So, I'm like the castle?"

"And the trees," Aveline looked slightly disappointed. "I thought the meaning would be clear."

Hawke shook her head, "No, I get it. It's a lovely gesture, Aveline; thank you."

"I just wanted to remind you how strong you are. I mean, you've been through so much, and yet, here you stand."

"Like an oak tree."

"Exactly!"

Sophia just smiled and nodded in response, unsure of what else to say. Luckily, Varric had been there and was able to steer the conversation in a different direction before Aveline got her feelings hurt by Hawke's lack of enthusiasm for her gift.

Though they were a bit intrusive and, at times, a bit overbearing, at least her friends had her best interest at heart. Leandra, on the other hand, was just annoyed by her daughter's dour attitude. On the fourth day of Sophia's self-imposed confinement, Leandra had stormed into her room and demanded that she pull herself together. "It is simply unbecoming for a well-bred lady to behave as such, and over a former slave no less," her mother had said to her. "I don't know why you were wasting your time with him when you can clearly do much better; perhaps this was all for the best. Now you need to pull yourself together and stop this moping around."

Though her mother never really said it, Sophia was sure Leandra was horrified by her companions' presence in the estate, but she seemed to know better than to say anything about it. She did not, however, hesitate to stop by Sophia's room several times each day to inquire as to when she could expect her daughter to be ready to reenter society. It had gotten to the point that Sophia was afraid that she would slip and say something cruel and unforgivable to her mother, and with their relationship already wearing thing, that was the last thing Sophia wanted to do. But if things continued on as they were, Hawke was quite sure she would say or do something she would regret. She needed a break from everyone, but where could she go to be truly alone? She couldn't go to the docks; they would be far too busy this time of day to offer her any kind of solace. Besides, Varric had somehow discovered that she was still visiting the docks, so that would probably be the first place he went to look for her.

Sighing to herself, Sophia pulled on a simple set of leathers. She was unsure exactly where she was headed, but if she was going to avoid her friends, she definitely couldn't stay there. Pulling a cloak around her, Sophia ducked out of the window and deftly climbed down the lattice and into her small garden that was slowly beginning to bloom with the warm spring air. She took a moment to enjoy the sweet smells of blooming flowers before disappearing out into the city.

Sophia simply walked around for a while without a real destination in mind, just letting her mind wander as her feet directed her path. It wasn't until she reached a flight of steps that she realized that her feet were taking her toward Fenris' estate, which was definitely the last place her mind needed to go. "He would be home this time of the day," Sophia thought to herself. "I'd bet that if I sent to see him, them…" Shaking her head, she pulled herself out of that train of thought. It would only lead to more heartache.

Suddenly, though, the bright sun and warm air became a bit oppressive, and Hawke longed for the comfort of heavy walls and dark corners. But she couldn't go home. Home meant more talking, and talking meant thinking, and she just wasn't up for that. She need somewhere where she could sit in peace, someplace comforting where she could simply be alone without worrying about being interrupted.

As she was thinking, her eyes fell on the massive building in front of her, a building she had not entered in years. The Chantry. A grin crossed her face. If there was anywhere in Kirkwall where she could hide where no one would think to look for her, the Chantry was it. It wasn't that she wasn't religious or anything. Far from it, in fact. She believed in the Maker and his bride; she just disagreed on the Chantry's stance on most issues, especially were mages and magic were concerned. All her life, Sophia had found it hard to believe the Maker would bless his creations with a gift, only to have them ostracized and hated for it. It was an issue that was hard for the young rogue to reconcile, so she simply avoided the Chantry, choosing to worship on her own. Now, though, those walls that had always seemed to be so cold and hostile seemed suddenly welcoming.

Glancing around her to make sure no one she recognized was nearby, Sophia made her way up the stairs and ducked into the building. The moment she stepped inside, a feeling of absolute peace and tranquility washed over her, and all the worries that had been plaguing her for the past week seemed to lessen just a bit. Smiling to herself, the rogue made her way through the dimly lit room and up the stairs to the pews that were used by those who came in to listen to the Chant. Since there was no service going on, the pews were empty, save for a few faithful souls who had their heads bowed in deep prayer. Without attracting any notice, Sophia slipped into one of the seats and found her eyes drawn to the statue of Andraste. She had walked past the massive statue many times in the past, but she had never really taken the time to examine it.

It was like all the other statues of Andraste she had ever seen, yet Sophia found herself wondering if the Bride of the Maker really looked like. In the statues, she was always so young, so beautiful that it was easy to forget she had been a warrior who had lead a revolution. Looking up at the serene look on her face, Hawke tried to imagine what it had been like for her, to have lead an army of thousands only to be betrayed by those closest to her. Did she allow herself to become bitter and angry, or did she face everything with the same serenity that always seemed to paint her features?

She wasn't sure just how long she sat there, staring up at the statue, allowing her mind to wander from musings on Andraste to Carver or Bethany or Fenris. It must have been quite some time because the pews around her began to fill as the faithful came in for afternoon services. Hawke continued to sit there even as the services began, listening as a warm, familiar voice began to recite a passage from the Chant. As she listened to the Chantry brother recite some familiar passage, the pain and despair of the past week seemed to slowly melt away. In fact, by the time the service was over, Sophia actually felt, well, not happy per say, but at the very least, she was at peace.

On her way out of the Chantry, Sophia stopped at a row of candles and watched as a woman bowed her head before she lit one. "Excuse me," she said softly to one of the sisters who was walking past. "What are these candles for?"

The sister smiled sweetly at her. "These are memorial candles, my Dear. You light a candle in memory of someone who has returned to the Maker's side. It helps you to remember those who have gone before us, to let them know that though they are gone, they are not forgotten."

Sophia looked at the candles for a moment before turning back to the sister. "Do they know? I mean, when we light a candle for them, will they know, or is it just something to make us feel better?"

The sister looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I'm not completely sure. I like to think that they're aware of us, that those who we've lost can still be near us, but it's one of those things the Chant is somewhat silent about." The sister smiled sweetly at Hawke. "But in the end, I don't think it matters, really. It brings us peace, and in the end, isn't that the important thing."

Hawke smiled and nodded, thanking the sister for her help. She stood there for a while, just looking at the candles, remembering her dream of Carver and her father, wondering if they were really still there, watching over her. Probably not, it was probably all just wishful thinking, a child's fantasy concocted to help her deal with her loss. Or was it? Hawke simply didn't know anymore. Sighing, Sophia turned to leave, but before she took more than a few steps, she stopped and turned back to the candles. Taking a taper from a small bundle, Sophia lit a candle for Carver and another for her father, saying a quick prayer. Much to her surprise, the ritual actually made her feel better.

With a light heart, Sophia made her way toward the Chantry door, suddenly remembering that she needed to check with the smith about the repairs he was making to her spare daggers and that she had some ingredients that she needed to pass along to Solivitus in the Gallows. She also needed to meet with Hubert about the production the Bone Pit. Did Bodhan say something about some letters that were waiting for her back at the estate? Maybe she should check on that before she headed down to the market. Regardless, she had wasted far too much time already. It was time for her to get back to work and get her life back together. She had moped over this elf for too long now, and Hawke knew she wasn't the kind of woman who would fall apart over a man. It was time she started living again.

-0-

"Do you mind if I join you?" a soft voice asked from beside her. Sophia looked up to see a familiar red-head standing beside her. It was Sebastian Vael, the last surviving member of the Starkhaven royal family. She had seen the royal archer around the Chantry during her visits there, but, not quite ready to give up her new-found solitude, she had never made it a point to stop by to speak with him. Though she was beginning to get herself back on track, she was really certain that spending time in the Chantry was playing a key role in her healing, so she had been sitting through mid-day services everyday for the past week.

"Of course," she said, giving him a small smile as she slid over in the pew so that he could join her. The two rogues sat quietly side by side for a moment, enjoying the quiet and peace of the chantry before Sebastian spoke again.

"So, Lady Hawke, would you like to talk about what has been troubling you?"

Sophia's head jerked up as she looked over at him in surprise. "I…um…well, what makes you think…"

Sebastian chuckled. "I've been back in Kirkwall for over a year and until a week ago, I had yet to see you in the Chantry once. For the past week, you've been here every day without fail. That usually means one of two things. One, you're hoping to hide from someone and are seeking shelter in the Chantry, or two, something is troubling you so you seek the peace the Chantry provides. Since I've heard no reports of someone being after you, I can only assume you seek solace here."

Hawke laughed in response. "Actually it's a little of both. I have been going through some things, and my sweet, but overbearing, friends were getting to be a bit much. I needed to think someplace that I knew they wouldn't look for me."

"And this was the last place they'd look."

Sophia nodded. "I used to hide out at the docks, but apparently one of my templar friends ratted me out. Now they know where to find me whenever I disappear." She smiled up at the brother. "That being said, I've actually found a kind of peace here. I'm beginning to see why people come here on a regular basis."

"It is a place of comfort for many; I'm glad you've found some peace here."

The seats around them had begun to fill as the faithful came in for the afternoon services. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be down there, getting ready to recite the chant?" she asked, glancing over at the archer. Over the past week, listening to his strong, yet soothing voice, sing the passages from the chant had become one of her favorite things about visiting the Chantry. His voice, it seemed, had a calming, almost hypnotic effect on her.

Sebastian shook his head. "I asked one of the sisters to fill in for me if you came in again today so that I could talk to you."

Sophia blinked in surprise. "Really?" She glanced quickly around. "So you want to talk here? Now, while the service is going on?"

"No, I was actually hoping to talk to you in private; if you are willing, of course."

Sophia thought about it for a second. It would be nice to talk to someone who wasn't intimately involved in what was happening in her life. Sebastian wasn't exactly a stranger, and though she wouldn't consider him a friend, he was definitely someone she could trust. "That sounds nice," she said with a smile. Sebastian stood and extended his hand toward her, tucking her hand into the bend of his elbow once she got to her feet beside him. Sophia had to stifle a laugh as she noticed the angry, jealous faces of the women around her as the attractive archer led her toward the back of the Chantry.

"I think I've upset some of your admirers," she said once they were out of the main room. Sebastian gave her a confused look. "Walking out on your arm, I mean," she added. "There were some women in there who looked like they were ready to scratch my eyes out because I was walking out beside you."

Sebastian sighed and shook his head. "Yes, they are becoming a bit of a nuisance, always hanging around, asking for a private confessional with me." She noticed a slight tremor run through him as they walked. "Like telling me about their wanton behavior will somehow make me abandon my vows to pursue a relationship with them."

Sophia chuckled, "Well, I'm sure disappearing into the dark bowls of the Chantry with me on your arm will do wonders to dissuade them."

"I hadn't thought about that," Sebastian said with a groan. "It'll probably make things worse. Now they'll think there's a chance."

"Oh, what's wrong, Sebastian; they not your type?"

"I've made a vow of devotion to the Chantry, Hawke. I don't have a type; well, not anymore at least."

"Ohhhh," Sophia said, intrigued. "It sounds like there's a story there."

"Maybe I'll tell you sometime," he said, flashing a quick grin as he lead Sophia out the back doors of the building and into a beautiful garden, tucked away behind the Chantry secluded by tall, stone walls.

"Wow," Sophia said, pausing in the doorway. "This is amazing. I had no idea anything like this existed here in Kirkwall."

"It's not open to the public. The sisters and I are supposed to use it for meditation and reflection. Being out in the Maker's creation helps us to feel closer to him."

"So why did you bring me back here?"

"It's the only place I can ensure our privacy. All the sisters and priests will be in vespers, and since I'm sure you'd rather not make public whatever is on your mind, I thought this would be the best place to talk." He motioned toward a bench hidden in a small, ivy-covered alcove. "Besides, I love to be out in the fresh air," he said as the two of them sat down beside each other. "So, Hawke, what is it that has been bothering you so much that you seek comfort from the Chantry?"

Sophia signed, took a deep breath, then told the Chantry brother everything from her father and Carver's deaths to Bethany to Fenris. The archer listened intently, his eyes filled with concern. It was oddly therapeutic, telling the young man her story; it felt as though a weight that she had been carrying for so long was slowly becoming lighter and easier to manage. She wasn't sure how long she talked, answering his questions, leading him through the tragic events in her life. It wasn't until after she had finished that started to be afraid the brother would judge her harshly for the decisions and failures in her life. "So," she said, with sudden nervousness, "that's that. I guess my failures all caught up to me in the end, and I just didn't want to face them."

"Is that what you think your life has been, Sophia? A long list of failures? Because, to be honest, when I look at your life, that's the last thing I see. I see a woman who had endured great hardships yet has thrived in circumstances that would crush a lesser person. None of these things are failures on your part."

"I wish I could see things that way," Sophia said, "but I can't ignore what's plainly there."

Sebastian looked at her for a moment. "Tell me, Hawke, why do you insist on doing this for yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why do you take all the guilt and all this blame on yourself? Isn't the pain of the situation enough without the added guilt?" When Sophia didn't reply, he continued. "I mean, look at your father's death. How many times over the years did you father perform spells like that or heal your injuries?"

"Thousands, but…why?"

"And he would have healed thousands of more if he had survived, right?"

"But he didn't because he had to heal my stupid ankle. I was careless, I fell, and Dad died as a result of that. The Templars found him because he healed me."

Sebastian took her hand. "Sophia, he chose to heal you because he loved you. He healed you thousands of times before without hesitation because he didn't want to see you in pain. To him it was worth the risk. That spell to heal your ankle was no different than any other spell he had cast. He knew the risks every single time he used his magic, yet he did it anyway. It could have been that spell or the thousand before or the thousand after it, but using magic always constitutes a risk of exposure. Just because he was using his magic on you doesn't make it your fault." Sebastian looked down at her. "Who put that idea in your head anyway?"

"What, no one, I…"

"So you walked away from that fight feeling like his death was your fault."

"Well, no, I blamed the Templars at first, but I was in shock. Once I realized what I'd done, that's when I started feeling guilty."

Sebastian sighed in frustration. "What about Carver? From what you told me, it seems like there was nothing you could have done to stop what happened to him."

"No, I should have stopped him; I could have…"

"Hawke, think about it. Didn't you say that ogre was headed for your mother when Carver stepped between them? If you had held him back or stopped him, then what would have happened? Carver died saving your mother's life. He'd fought darkspawn; he knew what he was getting into, but he did it anyway to save your mother." Sophia opened her mouth to retort, but Sebastian wasn't finished. "And Bethany, you had nothing to do with Bethany getting captured."

"No, I should have protected her; I should have…"

"You were doing exactly what you needed to do. You were working to provide for your family, to keep her safe. Didn't you tell her to lay low while you were gone?" Sophia nodded in response. "But she didn't, she healed someone without you there to ensure her safety, yet you still find the need to blame yourself. Why?"

"Because…look, it's just my fault, okay."

"Says who?"

"My mother, okay," Sophia snapped. "My mother has made it quite clear to me that it was fault, that it is all my fault. I saw the look on her face when I told her what happened to Father, and for the last three years, all I've heard was Carver and Bethany and how she wishes they were here and that it's my fault they're not." Fighting back tears, she turned away from Sebastian, unable to meet his gaze.

"I understand," Sebastian said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, "more than you can realize. When I found out what happened to my family, I felt guilty that I wasn't there to defend them. That's why I was so determined to find the mercenaries who were responsible for their deaths; it was the only thing I could think of to try to rid myself of the guilt."

"But you couldn't have done anything, Sebastian," Sophia said, turning back to face him. "If you'd have been there, you would have been dead right alongside of them. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"And neither do you," he said, looking down pointedly at her. "We can't understand the way that the Maker works or why he allows certain things to happen, but you can't live your life dwelling on the past. You need to take strength in what you've learned from your trials and use it to carry on."

"I just don't know how."

"Sophia, I took my guilt out on the ones who killed my parents because I felt that blaming them would make me feel better about myself, but it didn't, just like blaming yourself isn't going to make you feel any better. The only person who feels any better about this is your mother."

"What?"

"Your mother is taking her own guilt out on you. She feels guilty that her son died trying to protect her and that she wasn't able to protect her daughter from the templars, after all, it was her idea to come to Kirkwall in the first place. On top of all that, she has been forced to rely on her daughter to provide for her because she is unable to care for herself. I'm sure it's not easy for her to accept, so she takes her frustration out on you."

"No, she's not," Sophia said half-heartedly. "She just…"

"Hawke, I know you don't want to see it, but it's there. And you are letting her pull you down. You've been fighting off this darkness for so long, it was only a matter of time before it caught up with you. It's not healthy, Sophia, letting this kind of regret consume you. You have to move on with your life."

Sophia looked up at Sebastian as memories of her father and brother's words to her in the fade echoed through her head. "Sebastian, do you believe that those who have died can still see us from the Fade, that they know what is happening with us?" She glanced over at the archer and blushed. "I know this sounds like such a childish question, hoping that your loved ones never really leave you, but do you think that's a possibility?"

Sebastian sighed, "I really don't know, Hawke; I don't claim to be an expert on what happens after we die. Those who are truly devoted, will return to the Maker's side when they die, and it is said that he watches over us. I suppose that if our lost loved ones are at his side then they can see us. Why do you ask?"

"A few weeks ago, I was injured pretty seriously. According to my friends, I nearly died; I spent a few days unconscious in fact. But while I was asleep, I had, well, I like to think it was a vision of sorts because it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. Carver and my father came to me and encouraged me to move on and let go of my guilt, assuring me that their deaths weren't my fault, and I was just wondering if there was a possibility that it could have been legit."

"Do you often dream of them?"

"Sometimes, but never like that. Usually I just dream that I'm standing between the two of them, and I have to choose between saving Carver from the darkspawn and saving Father from the Templars. While I'm standing there, though, they are both killed."

Sebastian could only shake his head in response.

"But in this dream, they were together, but I couldn't see them. They were lost in a kind of fog, and they made it clear that it wasn't my time to die." She turned and looked up at the archer. "So could this have been a real vision, or was it my subconscious trying to get me to move on?"

"Does it really matter which one it was? I think the end result is clear. Either your family is encouraging you to move past this or your body is sending you the message that you need to. The end result is still the same, right? It's time to let the past go and focus on what's ahead of you. You still have so much to live for Hawke; you can't let the things that happened to you in the past constantly bring you down. You're too strong for that."

"You're right," she said softly after a while. "It's just…Sebastian, I've lived with this regret for so long, I'm not sure how to just let it go."

"You don't just let it go, but you can't let it consume you. You live your life and focus on the future. Don't forget the past because that makes you who you are, but you can't let it define you. I could live the rest of my days being the orphaned Prince of Starkhaven, or I could find something to make my life worth living."

Sophia thought about it for a moment. "I have plenty of things that make my life worth living; it's about time I realized that."

Sebastian smiled at her and pulled her into a big hug, "I'm glad to hear it, Hawke, and know this, I'll be here for you should you need to talk or anything."

The rogue looked up at the red-headed archer and smiled. "How did I get so lucky to have so many people who care about me?" she thought to herself as she stepped into the warm spring air. Fenris or no, she was going to be alright, and now she knew it.

-0-

_Yadd yadda yadda work yadda yadda yadda grading. You guys know the drill. Life and work has kept me so busy lately, but know I've not abandoned you. I'm still here and trying to update whenever possible. Thanks for sticking with me. _

_I'd love to know what you all think of this so far, so reviews are much appreciated. No promises this time on eta for next update; I'll just have to wait to see how involved life is. _


	10. Moving On

Sophia heaved an exasperated sigh as she dropped her pack on the ground and collapsed into one of the padded chairs in front of the fireplace. The Hanged Man was blissfully empty that afternoon, which was especially nice considering the fact that Hawke was fighting one hell of a headache, and the fact that their short excursion up the coastline hadn't turned out the way any of them had hoped wasn't helping alleviate it. All Sophia could think was that they had just wasted two days chasing rumors and whispers only to return home empty handed. On top of that, her mother had been pressuring her so much lately that Sophia finally caved, agreeing to allow her mother to set her up, yet again, on a date with a young nobleman.

"Isabella," she said as she signaled Norah for a drink, "You know I love you and all, but the next time you decide drag me out to hunt for this relic of yours, please make sure your source is somewhat reliable. I'd rather not go through all that for nothing again."

The pirate grinned as she dropped into the seat beside her. "Ah if only it were so easy, my lovely Hawke. But you know as well as I, this treasure hunting thing isn't an exact art, love. There are going to be setbacks in this business. I wish someone would just drop it in my lap, but I'm afraid the world just doesn't work like that."

"I doubt anyone would want to drop anything that has any kind of value in your lap," Varric said, walking up to their table and sliding into the seat beside Sophia. "There's no telling what sorts of diseases that relic of yours would pick up there."

Isabella made a face at the dwarf, "Ah, Varric, so kind of you to join us. And, if you'd like to see first-hand what treasures my lap holds, all you have to do is ask. I'm always more than willing to accommodate. Besides, I've never been with a dwarf, and if your wide shoulders and strong legs are any indication, it would be a rather enjoyable experience."

Varric barked out a laugh, "I survived the deep roads once, lady, and I don't plan on exposing myself to a taint of that potency again for a while yet."

Isabella laughed, "Ah, come on now, you know Anders took care of that weeks ago."

"Are they always like this?" Sebastian asked, gesturing toward the two rogues.

"Yes," Sophia and Fenris said in unison. As they spoke, their eyes met briefly before they both looked away. It had been nearly a month since the two of them spent the night together, and while he had started working with her again on a regular basis, there were still those occasional awkward glances, nervous exchanges, looks of longing, but one, usually Sophia, always turned away before the other would say anything. Awkwardness, Sophia could handle, but she wasn't about to let this failed relationship put her life into total upheaval, a week of moping around her manor was enough for her. She had too much going on in her life to let a man pull her down.

Varric laughed quietly to himself, noticing the exchange between the two, but didn't say anything about it. "So, I take by Hawke's relaxed demeanor that the treasure hunt wasn't a success."

"Sure, if you think that walking up the coastline for an entire day only to find a buried box full of bad poetry is a triumph, then we were a roaring success," Hawke said, slamming back her drink with an exasperated sigh. "Here, see for yourself," she said as she tossed the bundled stack of poems toward the dwarf.

Varric started flipping through the papers, laughing to himself as he read through the poetry. Shaking her head, Sophia leaned forward to grab her drink when a sharp sting shot through her shoulder. Hissing in pain, she drew back, rolling her shoulder, trying to ease the tension a bit. Dueling, practicing, and now digging up treasure had taken its toll on her shoulder, and what she really needed was a day off. Anders, ever attentive, didn't miss her hiss of pain. "Everything alright, Hawke?"

"Yeah," she said, trying her best not to wince as the pain subsided. "I'm just a bit sore, that's all. I think I may have pulled something trying to dig that stupid chest up."

Anders laughed. "Here," he said, moving to stand behind her, "let me take a look at that." Hawke leaned back in the chair, letting the mage unbuckle the top of her armor so that he could get to her shoulder. "Yeah, it looks like a strain. I could try to work it out a bit here if you'll let me so that don't have to come down to the clinic." Sophia nodded, so Anders opened her armor a bit more and pulled the fabric of her tunic back a bit, revealing her smooth, bare shoulder before he got to work. Try as she might, Sophia couldn't hold back a moan as Anders' skillful fingers began to massage the tension out of her muscles. Closing her eyes, she rolled her neck to the side to give the mage better access to the injured. It wasn't until she heard a frustrated huff that she opened her eyes to see Fenris staring at Anders, a furious look on his face. It was all she could do not to go off on the elf. If he was uncomfortable with another man touching her, then perhaps he should have staked his claim when he had the chance. As she was brooding, Anders' hands suddenly turned cold.

"Oh," she gasped at the sudden sensation, "are you alright, Anders; your hands are freezing."

"It's not too cold is it?"

"No, but how…"

"I'm using an ice spell, a weakened one, to try and soothe your muscles a bit. You're carrying a lot of tension in your shoulders, so it'll take me a while to work it out. Once I've dulled the pain a bit, I'll switch to a fire spell to try to get your muscles to relax."

"Hum, that sounds kind of kinky," Isabella said, leaning back in her chair, licking her lips, and arching her back a bit. "When you're finished with Hawke, why don't you come over here and put those chilly fingers to better use. I have a burning you can quench right over here."

"Isabella, I told you, if that burning is still bothering you, I have a cream that can clear that right up. Just swing by my clinic, and we'll get it fixed for you," he dead-panned, eliciting a round of snickers from everyone at the table, including Sebastian.

"You know, Rivaini, I think these poems are about you," Varric said, finally looking up from the bundle of poetry.

"Oh, really? You think. Maker, Varric, what would I have done without your keen insight and your shrewd analysis. What gave it away, exactly?'

"Probably this one," he said, clearing his throat dramatically before reading. "O pirate Queen, with your bosom supreme, Won't you let me rest my head, Dark lady fair with a smile so rare, Let me take you to my bed." He sighed dramatically as he put the paper down in front of him. "You really should track this guy down; he clearly went through a great deal of trouble to woo you, not that you normally require such effort on a guy's part anyway."

Isabella shot a rude gesture in Varric's direction. "If I ever find out who's behind this, he better hope to never get me alone' I'd likely gut him."

"Awe, come on, Bella," Hawke goaded, "are you sure there's no chance? I mean how could a girl resist such charms? It seems to me that he's just too intimidated by your bosom supreme to approach you in real life."

This time the rude gesture was fired off in Hawke's general direction.

"Regardless, this is good stuff," Varric noted, shifting through the papers. "Some real literary gold here. I think a few of these may just make an appearance in my next book."

"His next book," Sebastian asked, looking cautiously over at Sophia.

"Trust me, you don't want to know. I'm not sure Elthina would condone bringing most of his works into the Chantry." Sebastian raised an eyebrow in Hawke's direction. "In fact I think his last work, Hard in Hightown was banned by the Chantry."

Varric sighed. "You know, some people just don't appreciate good literature. But all that Chantry ban did was ensure everyone in Lowtown read it at least once. Elthia banning my book was the best thing that could have happened to it."

"Regardless, next time you decide to feature me in one of your books, let me preview it first so that I can help you disguise my identity a bit."

"What, Sparrow wasn't discrete enough?" Sophia groaned and rolled her eyes, eliciting a laugh from Varric. "Well, I'll to better next time," Varric said, tucking the poems into his cloak pocket. "Anyway, Hawke, are you up for some Wicked Grace tonight? We've got quite a group coming tonight; in fact, I think I've managed to convince Fenris to join us. What do ya say?"

"Sorry, not tonight, V. My mother has once again gotten it in her mind to set me up on a date. Apparently, she's not happy with the direction my social life has taken lately, so she's set me up with yet another one of her friend's sons."

"Who is it this time, Hawke?" Varric asked, leaning back in his chair.

Sophia shrugged unenthusiastically. "I don't know, some rich guy, Ulrich Von Stuffypants or something like that."

"Ummm, Stuffypants, now that sounds promising," Isabella purred, raising her eyebrows suggestively at Hawke.

"Please," Hawke said, rolling her eyes, "He's just going to be like all the others my Mother sets me up with, rich, grabby, and entitled." She groaned and rolled her shoulder again, thanking Anders for loosening it up. "Although, Mother seems to believe I'll feel differently about this one. She says this one's more my type; apparently she believes she's finally nailed my kind of guy."

"Oh, nailed your guy, now that's kinky," Isabella said. "She goes to great lengths to ensure you'll be happy with your dates doesn't she?"

"Bella, ugh, really does everything become a sexual innuendo with you?" Hawke snapped. "I mean, really, you're going to scare off Sebastian."

"Oh, come on, you can't say things like Stuffypants and nailed around me without me saying anything. You know me better than that," Isabella cooed. "Besides, Chantry boy over there needs to hear this. It may just do him some good."

Varric just rolled his eyes, "Seriously, though, Hawke, who is it that your mother has set you up with because her judgment in the past hasn't been very good when it comes to men?"

"Don't I know it," Sophia sighed. "His name is Ulrich De Gardwitz. Apparently, his family just moved to Kirkwall, but they're already making waves within the ranks of the nobility."

"De Gardwitz?" Sebastian said suddenly, looking over at Hawke. "As in the De Gardwitz family from Markham?"

"Yeah, are you familiar with them?"

"A little, Starkhaven a lot of trading with Markham, and the De Gardwitz family was one of the most powerful and influential families there, only one step down from royalty. I had no idea any of them made the move here."

"What are they like," Fenris asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

"Well, apart from the money and power, they're actually pretty decent people. My mother always said it was a shame they didn't have any daughters because she would have loved to have had one of us marry into that family."

"Wait, I think know this family," Varric said. "They moved here about two years ago. Is Ulrich the oldest?" Sophia nodded. "Yeah, I've heard a lot about him from the girls at the Rose."

"Oh, fantastic, he's a patron of the Rose."

"Not quite, his brother is though. Apparently, every time he goes in there to drag his brother out, the girls spend the next hour or so wishing Ulrich was one of their regulars." The dwarf glanced up at Sophia. "You know, your mother may have gotten this one right. According to what I've heard, he's a big, strong, good-looking guy."

"Looks aren't everything, Varric."

"I know, I know, but he sounds like he's not one to be intimidated by you or your accomplishments."

"We'll see," Hawke said, finishing her drink and getting to her feet. "I'll let you all know how it goes tomorrow. For now, I have a date to prepare for. I catch you guys later."

"I'll walk with you back to Hightown; I need to check in at the chantry anyway," Sebastian said, getting up to join her. Sophia nodded and waved back at her friends as she walked out of the tavern, a part of her still dreading the rest of the evening.

-0-

Much to her surprise, there wasn't much to dread.

By the end of the evening, Sophia had to admit that her mother had actually done a decent job this time in picking out a man. Ulrich was everything that Varric and Sebastian said he would be, and more. He wasn't intimidated when he arrived at her home to find Varric there, cradling Bianca in his arms, eying the nobleman silently. He impressed her further by showing genuine interest in her Mathus when he lumbered over to sniff him. Not only did he follow proper mabari protocol, letting the dog circle him and smell him, before kneeling and allowing the dog to come to him before petting him, but he also spoke to the dog intelligently, knowing he would understand him. Sophia was impressed; there aren't many foreigners who understand how to interact with a mabari without insulting either it or its master.

Ulrich was everything Varric said he was in the looks department as well. He had long, sandy-brown hair that hung down around his warm, brown eyes, but not in a way that looked shabby or unattractive. He was a whole head taller than she was, which is saying something because Sophia isn't a short woman. If his broad chest and powerful shoulders were any indication, he worked out often, and the calluses on his hands suggested that he actually knew how to use the sword he wore. Most noblemen of Kirkwall chose to move about the city unarmed, a practice that was hard for Sophia to understand since she came from a society where nearly everyone was armed. It was comforting to be out with a man who carried a sword; it felt like home. And by the end of the evening, Sophia was already looking forward to a second date.

That wasn't to say he was perfect. Like most noblemen, he had a tendency to talk about himself far too much, usually focusing on his training routine with his family's guards and his skills with a sword. Sophia had a feeling that this was on account of her reputation, as if the nobleman wanted to impress her with his swordsmanship. Though he did talk a lot about himself, he did remember to, on occasion, ask questions about her as well, and more importantly, he seemed to listen to her answers rather than just waiting for a chance to begin speaking again.

Sophia was afraid that, perhaps, her reputation as a fighter may have intimidated him, but much to her surprise, he seemed very interested in her past. In fact, most of his questions centered on that.

"So how did you manage to get your own mabari? I thought that they were rather rare around these parts," he asked as the two walked through the dark streets of Hightown on the way back to the Hawke estate.

"They are," she answered, "but I didn't get him here. He came over with me when we moved up here from Ferelden about four years ago."

"Oh, that makes sense. I had forgotten that you moved up here from Ferelden," Ulrich said. "So did your parents by him for you when you started training to fight or something?"

Sophia shook her head. "No, my family could never afford a mabari. They may be common in Ferelden, but they're by no means cheap."

"My apologies, I just assumed, seeing as how you're part of the nobility here and all."

Sophia shrugged, "No harm done. My mother grew up in a noble family here before she ran away to elope with my father who wasn't a nobleman. They moved to Ferelden shortly after they married. We actually owned a farm outside of Lothering, a small town in the south of Ferelden."

"So how did you come to own a mabari?'

"You don't really own a mabari, not exactly. It's more like," she sighed then smiled. "It's kind of hard to explain to someone who doesn't have a mabari. It's like he's a part of me, not a possession. Nothing short of the death of one of us could break the bond between us."

"Wow, I never realized. Well, how did you and Mathus come to be bonded?"

"It happened in Ostagar when my brother and I joined to army."

"Wait a second," Ulrich said, stopping so that he could turn and look at her. "Isn't Ostagar where the King was killed?" Sophia nodded. "Maker's Breath, I heard that was a massacre. I didn't think anyone survived that battle."

"There weren't many who did. My brother and I were a few of the lucky ones, but that's a story for another time. You were curious about Mathus. I was delivering a message to a group of mercenaries called Ash Warriors. They're known for their strength and tenacity during a fight as well as their uncanny bond with their hounds. As I was talking with one of their leaders, Mathus strolled over to me and began to circle me, sniffing me carefully before lying down at my feet. I asked Gordon, the leader of the group about him, and he informed me that he was just a pup, barely over a year old. Mathus' previous master had been killed in a darkspawn raid a few days earlier. Apparently, a mabari reprinting on a new master is very rare, so Gordon told me that the dog would be used for breeding but would never fight again. The thought made me sad; he seemed like such a powerful dog. It was a shame that he would never get to do what he was trained to do. After I delivered my message, I turned to leave, and he got up to follow me. That's when they realize that he had imprinted on me."

"Did it upset the Ash Warriors?"

"A little at first," Sophia said with a grin. "Probably more because I was a rogue than because I was a woman; we Fereldens don't look down on women warriors. But they came around eventually, and over the next few weeks as we were waiting for the rest of the army to arrive, the Ash Warriors trained me on how to fight with Mathus. They even helped tailor Mathus' fighting style to complement mine. It's hard to be stealthy when you have a huge mabari lumbering beside you. They eventually came to respect me, and they even made me an unofficial Ash Warrior. See," she said, pushing her bangs back off her forehead to show him an intricate tattoo that circled around her temple and up her forehead.

"The Ash Warriors tattoo their faces?"

Sophia nodded, "It was a great honor when they offered to give me a tattoo."

"Then why cut your hair so that it's covered up?"

"That's my mother's doing. She didn't really notice it when Carver and I returned from the battle; well, if she did, she didn't say anything. We were a bit too focused on trying to escape the darkspawn horde. It wasn't until we were living here in Lowtown that she really began to fret about it, so I started letting my hair cover it to appease her."

"You lived in Lowtown? Why?"

"When we first arrived here from Lothering, we learned that my uncle had gambled away Mother's inheritance, losing the family home in the process. It took me the better part of two years to get us out of there and into our old family estate here. The thought of regaining her old home was the only thing that seemed to cheer mother up, so once I got the funds, I moved her up here."

"Do you ever miss it?"

"What Lowtown?"

Ulrich laughed, "No, Ferelden. I can't imagine anyone missing Lowtown. You seem to miss Ferelden though. Your voice softens up so much when you talk about it, even when you're talking about preparing for a battle."

"Sometimes," she said, honestly. "Life was a lot simpler there, even after my father died and I was left in charge of the family. Open spaces, no dealing with politics or problems with giant, horned foreigners, it was nice. The biggest problem I had to deal with was fighting off bandits while we took our goods into town."

"Fighting darkspawn, fighting bandits, dealing with qunari, man, it sounds like you can do it all," Ulrich said looking down at her. "I'd love to see you in action sometime."

Sophia shook her head, "No you wouldn't. For one, seeing me in action means someone is attacking us, which is not fun, believe me, and secondly, you wouldn't actually see me in action, not if you were actually fighting yourself."

"And why is that?"

"I move too fast; that's the whole point of my fighting style. I use shadows and speed to hide from my enemies and incapacitate them as quickly as possible. I appear, disappear, feint, dodge, reappear behind an enemy. You'd have to pay very close attention to actually see me in action."

"Oh, and what makes you think I wouldn't be paying attention to you. I think I'd find it rather difficult to ever take my eyes off of you."

"Are you sure you could keep up with me?" she asked with a sly grin.

He smiled, "Whether I could keep up with you or not, I know I'd enjoy the chase."

"Something tells me we're not talking about fighting anymore, are we?" Sophia asked, her heart pounding as she looked up at him.

Ulrich wrapped an arm round her waist and pulled her over to the wall. "I certainly hope not because if we are, this may end very badly," he said, cupping her face and tilting it up slightly and capturing her lips in his. Sophia sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him pull her closer so that their bodies slowly melted together. Closing her eyes, Sophia allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, the pressures and stresses of the last few weeks melting away. Ulrich's lips left hers and began to trail down her jaw line to the base of her neck. Hawke's eyes fluttered open for a moment to look at him when a slight movement caught her eye.

Without moving her head, Sophia carefully surveyed the area round them, and her stomach dropped. She thought that they had taken care of the Silent Sisters weeks ago, but apparently there were still remnants of the gang slinking around Hightown. One such group had spotted them and was slowly moving across the courtyard to ambush them. Hawke's mind immediately went to work through her limited options.

"Ulrich," she whispered into his ear as he continued to kiss her neck. "I think you're about to get your wish."

"I was hoping you'd feel that way," he moaned in response.

"No that one," she hissed, rolling her eyes. "You're about to see what I can do in a fight." She felt Ulrich stiffen instantly as his arms tightened around her. "To our left there is a gang of about eight rogues that will be closing in on us in about two minutes. They will probably focus on you at first because you look like the biggest threat. Stay close. We have one chance to do some massive damage to them if they stay clumped together, so don't let on that we see them yet."

Sophia reached around to the bag on her hip, mentally going over its contents: two fire bombs, two healing potions, and three miasmic flasks. She'd have to use them wisely and hope there weren't reinforcements. Her short daggers were in her boots, so she couldn't go for them immediately without giving them away. They were close enough to her home that she should be able to summon Mathus, but it would take him a few minutes to get there if someone would let him out of the house. Taking a few breaths to prepare herself, she glanced up at Ulrich and was surprised to see a panicked look on his face. "We'll be fine, just focus."

"It's not that," he whispered, his hands shaking slightly. "It's just…well, I've never been in a fight before, not a real one anyway."

"But you said you trained all the time."

"Training with my guards is different from fighting against someone who is trying to kill you. These aren't blunts and padded swords they'll be attacking with, and I don't have a shield or armor."

Sophia's stomach lurched, and she had a sinking feeling that she would be alone in this. "Just keep them in front of you. Don't let them draw you out into the open. They're rogues, so they'll try to move in behind you." Ulrich nodded, still looking quite green. "Okay on my mark I'll make my move; it should stun them momentarily. Cut down as many of them as quickly as possible."

Ulrich nodded, "Okay, move quickly…kill."

Hawke reached into her bag and pulled out one of the fire bombs, carefully removing the safety plug to allow the volatile chemicals to mix before hurling it into the middle of the advancing gang. Instantly, the silence of the night was shattered by the deafening explosion. Sophia was moving instantly, her daggers in hand as she began to move around the stunned, burning group of rogues. Trying to keep an eye on the timid noble, she tried to eliminate as many of the enemies as possible before they regained their bearings. She knew that she only had about twenty seconds, so she worked fast. About half of the enemy rogues where on the ground before the group started moving again, and that's was when things got real.

Spinning around, she drove her daggers into the chest of the rogue running at her. The woman stumbled and fell to the side; before she even hit the ground, Sophia was already focused on the second enemy, lashing out and catching her throat with the tip of her daggers as she spun around. Bringing her daggers up in front of her to block the next attack, she spun, throwing a leg out to knock her attacker to the ground. Quickly, she buried her daggers into the woman's chest, and left them there, grabbing her enemy's longer, more deadly daggers. Five enemies down, only two more to go.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Ulrich frantically defending himself against the rogue's furious attacks. Moving as quickly as possible, she closed the distance between them, launching herself at Ulrich's attacker, taking her to the ground and killing her before the rogue had a chance to react. Rolling over her shoulder, she spun around to face off against the final attacker. Circling each other for a moment, the two rogues silently sized each other up before Hawke attacked. They were rather equally matched, their daggers moving so quickly that they were merely a blur of silver around the two women. Then Sophia's foot caught the edge of the long dress she was wearing, causing her to stumble. Her enemy took immediate advantage, launching herself at Hawke, leaving a deep gash on her forearm. Through the grace of the Maker, Sophia managed to parry the second attack, thrusting the woman back a few feet and using her disorientation to slide behind the other woman, slitting her throat before she had a chance to recover.

Panting, Sophia rested her hands on her knees, trying hard to catch her breath. "Um, Sophia," Ulrich said, panic rising in his throat, "we're not finished." Hawke looked up to see a second wave of more than a dozen rogues beginning to close in on them, every one of them focused not on the big strong man standing behind her, but on Hawke herself. Cursing to herself, Sophia looked down at her blood-stained dressed; it was ruined anyway, so she didn't hesitate to cut it, tearing away to bottom half of the dress to give herself a little more mobility.

Sophia spun the daggers in her hands and turned to look toward the group cautiously crossing the courtyard, advancing on her. There was no way to catch more than three of them with her final fire bomb, not until they were too close. Just as she was about to panic, the entire courtyard suddenly lit up as a violent lightning storm suddenly began to rain down on her attackers. "Anders?" she muttered, spinning around in time to see three armed men clad in full plate armor race past her while a fourth stood beside a trio of mages who were all hurling spells into the courtyard.

Sophia made a move toward the courtyard to join the three men when a figure moved out of the shadows to her right, surprising her and knocking her to the ground. She was able to raise her daggers in time to stop the first attack, but the power of the blow knocked her daggers to the ground. Unable to defend herself, she tried to roll away, but found herself pinned to the ground beneath her enemy's foot. The rogue raised her dagger to finish Hawke when a massive blur of russet hair appeared out of the darkness slamming into rogue, throwing her clear of Sophia. The surprise attack gave Hawke enough time to struggle to her feet and grab a set of daggers before the next attack came. Together, along with the occasional spell by the mystery mages, Sophia and Mathus were able to put down the hand full of rogues who managed to get past the three armed warriors.

As Sophia watched the warriors kill the last of the Invisible Sisters, the adrenaline coursing through her body began to fade, and she slowly became aware that the deep cut on her arm was still bleeding heavily. Suddenly feeling rather dizzy, Sophia knelt down to inspect the wound, hoping that she could keep herself from passing out.

"My Lady," the warrior who had been protecting the mages said, kneeling down beside her, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just a cut. I just need something to stop the bleeding," she said, reaching into her pack for one of the healing potions.

"Here, let me take a look at that," he said, taking her arm and looking at it. "This is pretty deep," he muttered. "Orsino, could you come here for a moment." Sophia glanced up to see an elven man carrying an elaborate staff walking toward her. "Do you think you could heal this injury?"

"Of course," the mage said, kneeling beside the Warrior. The mage's hands glowed with a soft blue light as he poured his healing magic into her. Slowly, but surely, Sophia's dizziness began to fade, and she was able to clearly process what was happening around her. By some miracle, she had been saved by a company of templars and the mages they were escorting. "You have quite a cut here, my dear; I'd hate to see what would have happened if we hadn't showed up." He smiled at her as he wiped the blood off her forearm.

"Thank you First Enchanter."

Orsino smiled. "You know me; I have to say I'm surprised. There aren't many normal citizens who know who I am. Might I ask your name?"

"Sophia, Sophia Hawke."

"Sophia Hawke?" the templar said, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

"That's right," Sophia said, looking up at him. "Do I know you?"

"No, Lady Hawke, but your reputation does proceed you. I'm Barry, by the way," he said, extending a hand to help her to her feet. "It's a pleasure to finally put a face to a name. Though I have to say, I'm rather surprised. I never expected to find someone with your reputation in a situation like this. What are you doing out here alone?"

"Alone? Oh, no, Ulrich," she shouted, spinning around and looking for the nobleman. She found him leaning against the wall as he emptied his stomach on the ground. "Ulrich, are you alright."

"I'm…no…I think I need to sit down."

"I'll look after him," Orsino said, kneeling down beside the nobleman. "I think he's just in shock."

"Thank you, Orsino," Hawke said before turning back to Ser Barry. "We were ambushed as he was walking me home. I managed to take out several members of the first wave with a well-placed bomb, but that would have only worked once. We're fortunate you came along when you did. What are you doing out of the Gallows anyway?"

"Orsino had a meeting with the Grand Cleric, so we were escorting him to and from the meeting. We heard the explosion and came to investigate."

"Well, thank the Maker you did," Sophia said, glancing toward the other three templars who were speaking with several members of the city guard who had just arrived on the scene. "I'm not sure I could have handled that entire group on my own."

"Glad that we could be of service," he said with a smile. "But I think it would be wise if you spoke with our Captain before you left. He'll likely want to speak with you about what happened. Why don't you take a seat," he said, directing her to a bench, "while I go get him."

Sophia nodded and watched as the young, blond templar moved away to join the others. Sighing, she looked down at her ruined dress. No doubt her mother would be horrified when she returned home, not horrified that she had nearly escaped death. No, horrified that she ruined both her dress and her date with Ulrich. Glancing over at the nobleman who had kissed her so intently only a few minutes ago, she instantly knew that there would definitely be no second date. He was clearly too disturbed by what she was capable of, and she was too disappointed by the fact that he probably couldn't defend himself in a pillow fight. Sighing she sheathed her daggers back into her boots and turned her attention to Mathus who had made his way back over to her and was looking up at her, concern evident in his intelligent eyes.

"I'm alright boy; most of it's someone else's blood." Mathus huffed quietly, still assessing her as he came to sit beside her. Hawke smiled and knelt beside her hound, carefully checking him for any injuries, making a mental note to give him a huge steak once they got home. Once she was sure he was uninjured, she stood up and found herself looking up into familiar brown eyes.

"Cullen?"

-0-

_Hello everyone (at least everyone who's still reading). I know it's been a while since my last update. Things at work have kept me extremely busy, but I promise to continue to update. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to respond to PMs or reviews (I promise to try to be better about that). But to address some of the questions and comments, yes this is a Cullen story, but it's also a love triangle, meaning Fenris will still play an important role in the story (though I won't say how as of now). _

_Anyway, let me know what you think; reviews are much appreciated, and I really would like to know what you all think._


	11. Knight Errant

Cullen smiled to himself as he watched his two young templars as they cut down the last of their rogue attackers. "Ryan is doing rather well, "he thought to himself as he watched the new initiate finish off the last masked enemy. "He is leaving his left flank a bit too open, though." Making a mental note to mention it during their next morning training session, Cullen took a deep breath and glanced around. Seeing that everything was secured, he wiped his sword clean before securing it in his scabbard. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Barry had everything under control with the mages. Not that he had expected an escape attempt from Orsino, but when dealing with mages, one could never be too careful. A mage who had half a mind to escape would have taken advantage of the templars' temporary distraction and at least attempted to escape, but these particular mages had been locked away in the Gallows for so long, they probably wouldn't have made it long on their own. This evening meeting with the Grand Cleric was probably the first time most of them, except for Orsino, had been outside the Gallows in years. When Meredith asked him to escort this group, he decided to take a few of his initiates with him so that he could train them on the procedures of supervising mages outside the circle. The fight, well, that was just a fortunate surprise.

In a strange way this impromptu battle had turned out to be quite beneficial to Cullen. On one hand, it had given him chance to evaluate his newest recruits in a real-life battle situation, something sparring in the training yard simply couldn't provide. His two newest underlings had actually proven to be rather adapt considering their lack of combat experience, applying their training to the battle without much trouble. They were still a bit green and inexperienced as far as technique was concerned, but they didn't hesitate in the face of taking another life in battle, something extremely important in their line of work. He had seen too many of his compatriots fall because they hesitated at the wrong moment when faced with killing for the first time, but that didn't seem to be a problem for either Ryan or Dean which was good. It's hard to teach a young recruit how to take a life when necessary, and, sadly, for a templar, it's often necessary.

Impromptu training and evaluation wasn't the only perk from this particular fight. The second, and possibly more important, befit from the battle was that it had given him a chance to take his frustrations and stresses on people who wouldn't have the option of going and crying to his superior. Running a sword through those rogues who had been attacking the pair civilians had been oddly therapeutic for the frustrated templar who had been lashing out at everyone, mages and templars alike, for weeks now. Lashing out was one thing, but you don't get to take out your frustrations on trainees, not if you want them to be able to do their jobs properly. As a result, Cullen had been forced to hold his anger in for a long time now, and it was starting to become a bit too much. This fight had proven to be a welcome release from the pressure and dull routine he had forced himself into.

That routine had been his life for the past month - training, working, evaluating the new recruits, doing anything he could to avoid thinking about the one person he hadn't been able to get off his mind, Sophia Hawke. However, despite his best efforts, nothing really worked. No, ever since she and Fenris had gotten together, Cullen had slowly began to spiral into deeper and deeper depression. Things like this would help take his mind off things, but only momentarily. As soon as night fell and his mind quieted, she would come to the forefront of his mind, and he would be miserable again. He had gone to see her the morning after the elf had run of and left them all in that Maker-forsaken cave, ready to console her, only to be informed by her dwarven manservant that the elf had been waiting for her when she returned home. Worse than that, he had spent the night with Hawke. It was the only conformation he needed. They were together, and he was too late; he had kept his feelings to himself for just too long. Suddenly the thought of seeing them together was too much, so the templar had avoided her as much as possible.

It was impossible, though, to avoid her completely, not when his business often took him into the mainland. He stopped frequenting the Hanged Man, but it wasn't enough. When he was on patrol in the city, he would still occasionally see her out and about in the market, and, of course, Fenris was always close behind. He had managed to avoid being seen by her by remaining fully helmed whenever he left the Gallows. It also saved him from letting the other templars see his distraught face whenever she came into view. In fact, only Barry was aware of Cullen's private heartbreak, and he preferred it that way.

Sighing to himself, Cullen ordered his recruits to search the bodies before turning turned to speak with the city guards who were approaching to access the situation. The guard seemed quite appreciative as Cullen explained what happened. "This attack caught us during a shift change, so there were no guards in the area. We've been beefing up patrols in this area trying to pin down this particular group; they just caught us a little off guard tonight."

Cullen shrugged, "Well, we were passing through on our way back from the Chantry when we heard the explosion, so we came to investigate. I'm glad we made it on time and could help; besides, it gave my greenhorns here some good combat experience."

"In all honesty," Guardsman Donnic said, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, "we aren't usually the ones who encounter this group. They usually like to stay hidden when the guards come through on patrol. It's usually Lady Hawke and her group who take care of them. In fact, when we heard the explosion, we assumed it was just Hawke and her crew. They've been working the streets here at night, trying to put down this gang that's been terrorizing this area. According to the Guard Captain, they've been trying to pinpoint their base of operations, but haven't found anything yet. It's fortunate that you and your templars were here to step in; those civilians would have been in a lot of trouble were it not for you."

"Like I said, we're glad we could be of service," Cullen said, his heart tightening at the mention of the one person he'd been trying to forget. All of a sudden, his new-found peace was gone. Sighing quietly, he tried to come back to the situation at hand. "It's probably a good thing we were the ones who showed up first; it would have been difficult for a patrol to handle a group this size. We struggled and we had mage support."

Donnic nodded. "It would probably be a good idea for us to patrol in groups for a while, at least until this nest of criminals is wiped out. So, you mentioned some civilians; are they okay?"

Cullen glanced over his shoulder. "They seem to be. Barry, one of my senior templars, and the mages are tending to them now."

"No harm then, which will make Aveline happy. Dead nobles makes her job a lot more difficult, let me tell you."

"I'm sure it does," Cullen said as he glanced up at Ryan, who was walking toward him. "We searched the bodies ser, and we found this. It looks like it's written in some kind of code."

"I'll take that," Donnic said, taking the paper from the young templar. "Hawke and the Captain will be able to figure it out. Hopefully, it'll lead us to their whereabouts." There it was, Hawke again, and just like that, Cullen's better mood had evaporated and bitterness had crept back in. "Anyway, I'll get a crew in here to see to the cleanup, and I'll have the Viscount pass along his appreciation to the templar order."

Cullen thanked the guard; after the bad rep they'd been getting lately, a little positive press would do the order some good. He glanced over his shoulder to see Barry walking toward him, a serious look on his face. "Are the civies okay?"

"Yeah, they'll live. The woman's pretty shook up, though," Barry noted. "I think that the magic and what not shook her up quite a bit. I've tried to reassure her, but I'm not sure how much it helped. You may want to go and have a word or two with her, just to make sure she's alright."

Cullen sighed. This was a part of his job that he didn't much care for, reassuring the public that they were safe from magic when, in his eyes, that fact couldn't be further from the truth. However, the less the laity knew about the true nature and potential of magic the better for all. Better to coddle and reassure than to rouse fear in the hearts of the public. Let them think that the mages were securely locked away, and allow them to go on with their happy lives, never knowing the danger that was focused just across the water from where their children slept. Cullen would rather calm a few frightened civilians with his lies than try to quell a mob of angry, well-informed citizens.

"Let's get this over with," he muttered to himself as he approached the pair. He had gotten no nearer than twenty feet when he noticed that the woman kneeling next to a rather large dog. Though a tattered and torn dress was by no means her normal attire, there was no mistaking who the woman was. Sophia Hawke. Annoyed, Cullen turned to glare at Barry who was looking at him with a big, unashamed grin on his goofy face. Shaking his head and cursing his bad luck, Cullen closed the distance between him and the woman he had been trying so hard for the last month to avoid. Sensing his approach, Hawke gave the dog a final pat before getting to her feet and turning toward him. His stomach lurched in concern as he noted the large amount of blood on the front of her dress.

"Cullen," she said, her eyes widening in surprise for a moment before her face softened into a smile. "Well, I should have known that of all the knights in the city, it would be you who would come to my rescue when I found myself in danger again."

Cullen was not amused. "Are you alright?" he asked, taking her shoulders into his hands so he could get a better look at her.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Me, I'm fine. I'm sure I look frightful, though, but don't worry, most of this blood isn't mine."

"Most of it?"

Sophia held up her arm for him to see. Turning it in his hand he saw a thin red line tracing down her forearm. "Velvet and silk don't block quite as well as my drakeskin. I guess for a moment I forgot I was in a party dress and tried to block or something. I don't know; it all happened so fast."

"You're lucky you didn't lose an arm," he said glancing down at her.

"I think I'm more lucky I didn't lose my life. It was starting to look like a real possibility until you showed up. I let myself get in a little deep back there."

"I can see that," he said, taking his eyes off of her for the first time to look around and noticing that the normal cast of characters who usually followed her around was strangely absent. "What were you thinking engaging a group like that on your own and without your armor or anything? And where is the rest of your group?" _More importantly, where is Fenris?_

"I didn't exactly plan to get ambushed when I got dressed to night," she said bluntly. "And as for my companions, I don't have to take them everywhere. Especially on dates, they kinda kill the mood."

"Dates? You're on a date?" He managed to stop himself before he shouted, "What about Fenris?" Sophia rolled her eyes and nodded over her shoulder toward the noble man who was emptying the final contents of his stomach onto the ground beside Orsino. She was on a date, and with a loser who lost his stomach at the sight of a little blood. Could this mean that she and Fenris were no longer together? Hope began to swell in the templar's suddenly lighter heart. He looked back at Hawke and grinned. "You decided to take your date bandit hunting?"

Sophia laughed and nudged him with her elbow. "Well, he did say he wanted to see me fight, so I figured, 'Why not, there are always hooligans roaming the streets of Hightown. Let's find some of them and pick of fight.'" She rolled her eyes up at the templar. "We were ambushed on our way back from the party. This group always travels in a pack, and there was no way of knowing if their back up was in front of or behind us, so we couldn't run away. Ulrich had a sword, and he had spent the entire evening bragging about how good of a fighter he was. I hoped he could hold his own long enough for us to fight our way out."

"Clearly the wrong idea."

She snorted slightly in agreement. "I knew we were in trouble when I heard him gag the moment my firebomb hit the first group. I'm honestly surprised he managed to keep ahold of his sword through the whole fight."

Cullen spared the man a final glance. "He seems like a real winner."

"Mother's idea, not mine," Sophia said with a sigh. "Well, it's over now. I've managed to run another off with my decidedly unfeminine behavior, something Mother will be all too glad to point out the moment I walk in the door. Whatever, I'm over it." She glanced up Cullen. "So what are you doing here anyway? I thought you had been avoiding Hightown."

Cullen felt himself blush a bit. _Busted!_ "I've not been avoiding anything, per say," _lies, _"Things have just been a bit hectic in the Gallows. We got a new group of recruits in that I had to evaluate and train, not to mention Meredith has been tightening down on letting us leave on account of Emeric."

"Emeric? I remember him; he was investigating some missing woman I was tracking down a few years ago. What's he been doing?"

"Well, he's been trying to investigate every woman who has gone missing over the past three years. He's convinced that they're all connected somehow and that there's blood magic involved somehow. He's a bit obsessed, really, questioning everyone from the drunks in Lowtown to the Guard Captain herself. It's angered several important people, so Meredith confined us to the Gallows during off duty hours for a while until it all died down a bit."

"Well, that doesn't exactly seem fair."

Cullen shrugged his shoulders a bit. He wasn't being completely truthful. Yes, Meredith had confined most of the templars to the Gallows, but that was only so she could figure out who was the source of the complaints. Cullen, by virtue of his position, was exempt from this. His confinement had been more or less self-imposed, but telling her this was easier that telling her the truth: that he couldn't bear to see her and Fenris together. "It's all part of the job. Once she figured out it was Emeric, she eased up a bit on the rest of us. We just had really strict orders not to ruffle any important feathers."

"So now that you're free, does that mean we'll be seeing you around the Hanged Man again soon?"

"Maybe," Cullen said. "We, well Barry and I, were actually planning on visiting the Sleeping Dragon in a few days. They have a pair of traveling gleemen that have been performing for the past week or so. Apparently, they're pretty impressive."

"Gleemen?"

"Yeah, they're kind of like bards except they also juggle and do other tricks too. These two are brothers, so they've been performing together for their entire life. You should join us," he added, almost as an afterthought, his heart pounding as he waited for her response.

Sophia looked up at him and grinned. "So does that mean you're done avoiding me?"

Cullen bit his bottom lip. "I…um…"

"Ah, I'm just teasing. I'd love to join you all," she said as Donnic made his way over.

"Hawke, what are you…wait, I thought that…you weren't…"

"Yes, yes, I was the helpless civilian who was attacked and needed to be rescued by this group of dashing templars. Embarrassing, I now, and trust me, once Varric gets wind of this, I'll never hear the end of it."

Donnic laughed. "Well, I had come over here to offer you an escort home, but…"

"I'll see to it that she gets home safely," Cullen said, earning a quick grin from Hawke.

"I would appreciate it, though, if you can see to it that Ulrich makes it home," Sophia said, sparing Ulrich a glance over her shoulder. The nobleman looked uneasy on his feet as he glanced over at the bodies the guards were beginning to stack up around the edge of the open courtyard. "I think this whole thing has him a bit uncomfortable."

"I'll see to it that he makes it back safely, and I'll try to keep Varric from hearing about your little situation. No promises, though."

"Much appreciated," Sophia said with a small laugh before she turned to speak with Ulrich who seemed non-too-pleased to see her approach. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked as she approached him.

"Yeah," he said softly, "I just never…I had no idea."

"It's always a bit rough the first time you find yourself in a situation like this," she said, motioning for Donnic. "These guards are going to make sure you make it home safely."

Ulrich nodded, looking slightly relieved. "And you, will they be seeing you home as well?" he asked, almost as an afterthought when he saw the condescending looks on the faces of the two armed men standing behind Sophia.

"Me? Yeah, I'll be fine. My estate is just a few blocks away, and Ser Cullen has agreed to walk me home on his way back to the Gallows."

"My thanks, Ser Templar. Um..Sophia, I had a lovely evening…well, until, you know," he said, turning back to Hawke. "And, I guess I'll be calling on you again, if that's alright with you."

"I look forward to it," Hawke said with a soft smile that Ulrich probably never saw considering how quickly he turned and strode ran away from her. "Prat," she muttered once the nobleman was out of earshot. "Well, that's that, I guess. Thanks again for your help, so I'll see you at the Sleeping Dragon in a few nights then."

"Wait, you're not leaving."

Hawke looked up at him, a bit surprised. "Cullen, I live right over there, you don't have to walk me home. Mathus is here; I'll be fine."

The Templar grinned, "Now what kind of knight would I be if I allowed a lady to return home unescorted after going to such lengths to save her. Now," he said, extending his arm toward her, "if you please."

Sophia rolled her eyes, but took his arm anyway. "Well, my knight errant, I suppose I am yours, at least for the next ten minutes or so." Cullen glanced over at Barry who just smiled and gave them a thumbs up as they left the courtyard. They had walked a little way before Sophia spoke again. "I don't remember if I've said this already, but thank you. If you hadn't gotten here when you did…well, it wouldn't have been pretty, that's for sure."

Cullen looked down at the woman on his arm. Despite the torn and bloody dress she was wearing, she was still stunning, her raven hair shinning in the moonlight as she smiled up at him. The image of her pale and cold, lying on the cobblestone streets flashed through his mind, and his stomach turned over, imagining what would have likely happened if he and his trainees hadn't been there to intervene. He put his hand on top of hers, letting his thumb lightly graze the top of her hand. "I'm just glad we were in the right place at the right time. I would have hated to hear that something had happened to you. Are you sure you're alright?"

Sophia nodded, "Thanks to you." She smiled up at the templar and shifted her weight, moving closer to his side as they walked. "That's twice now that you've saved me from almost certain death."

"I guess that makes us even then, seeing as how I put you into a situation that nearly killed you; I must owe you at least two free saves. The next one will cost you."

"Oh, really, and what's the going rate for rescuing a damsel in distress these days?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not a set rate, but should the situation arise, I'm sure we can work something out," he said with a sly smile.

Her response made him go a bit weak in the knees. Sophia glanced up at him out of the corner of her eyes and licked her bottom lip. "I'm sure we could figure something out that would be mutually beneficial," she whispered up at him.

Cullen swallowed hard. He had never really been in a situation like this before, throwing flirtatious and suggestive innuendos back and forth with any woman, much less the woman he was very attracted to. It was clear he was in over his head, so he quickly changed the subject. "So Ulrich, how did that happen, exactly?"

"Oh," she said, a small, knowing smile on her face. "Like I said, that was Mother's doing."

"Yes, but I thought…were you and…what I mean is…"

"Fenris and I, well for lack of a better term, we broke up. Though I'm not sure how you can break up with someone you were never truly with, but that's what it felt like." Cullen raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her. "To make a long story short, Fenris decided that perusing a relationship with me was too difficult for him, so he left, end of story."

"I'm sorry," he said, knowing that deep down, he wasn't sorry. In fact, his inner-self was doing cartwheels at the fact that she was currently unattached and seemed to be flirting with him.

"I'm fine; it happened over a month ago, anyway. Right around the time you disappeared."

"You noticed, then." Hawke nodded with a slight laugh. "Well, work was busy and all that, but in all honesty, I just needed a bit of a break. I suppose I still felt a bit guilty about what happened to you, and I didn't know quite how to deal with it."

"You know you didn't do anything wrong, right? There was no way of knowing that that guy was hiding in the closet. We all let our guard down there." She stopped and turned him to so that they were standing face to face. "Losing your friendship would have been more painful that a dagger to the back any day. Now, why don't you come in and let me get you a drink. I'm sure rescuing me worked up quite a thirst."

"Sounds like a plan," he said as he led her through the door of her estate. Mathus trotted on ahead of them and plopped down in front of the roaring fire. He turned to say something to Hawke when a somewhat shrill voice sounded in the main hall.

"Sophia, darling, are you home?"

"Damn," Hawke muttered, glancing down at the tattered remains of her dress. "I guess it was too much to hope that she would be in bed by the time I got in." She shook her head then raised her voice. "In here Mother."

"Oh, good, you are a bit later than usual, so I hoped that perhaps…Oh!" Leandra stopped dead when she saw her daughter. "Sophia, you look affright; what happened to your dress?"

"Good to see you too, Mother. I'm fine by the way."

"Don't be silly, Sophia. Clearly you are fine; I can see that. What I want to know is what happened to your dress. That was a brand-new dress and now it's ruined. You're a mess, just look at yourself," he mother scolded. Cullen was taken aback by Leandra's flippant attitude toward her daughter's wellbeing.

"I'm sorry I ruined the dress, Mother. In the future when I'm ambushed by a company of rogues, I'll be more careful, and perhaps next time you can remove the dress from my dead body. I just hope my blood doesn't ruin it this time."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Sophia. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as all that; I'm sure that had you let him, Ulrich would have handled the situation just fine. Where is Ulrich by the way?"

"If he's in the same state I left him in, he's probably throwing up while some guard tries to get him home safely."

Her mother folded her arms across her chest in a frustrated huff. "So you just left him? You drug him into some fight and then just left him there. Sophia, what were you thinking?"

"I didn't just leave him; I made sure that he could make it home safely. Besides, it wasn't my fault we got into the fight. We got ambushed, remember; you can't really help it when that happens."

"So why didn't you let him take care of it instead of jumping and taking care of it yourself? I'm sure he's perfectly mortified by your behavior; I know I am."

Cullen couldn't hold his mouth closed any longer. "If she had waited for him to do something, they would have both been dead by now. What were you thinking sending her out there unarmed with someone who was not up to the task of defending her?"

Both of the Hawke women turned and looked at him, both with varying expressions of shock. Leandra seemed completely taken aback while her daughter had a strange combination of surprise and appreciation spreading across her face. Then it seemed that Leandra recognized him. "A templar?" she nearly shouted, rounding on her daughter. "You brought a templar into our house."

"Not just any templar, Mother," Sophia said, finally finding her voice. "This is Cullen, the Knight Captain of the Kirkwall."

"Yes, I know perfectly well who he is. He was there when your sister was taken." Leandra threw her hands up in the air. "How could you bring this man into our house?"

"This man is the reason I'm still standing here. If he hadn't shown up when he did, I would have been dead. Look at me Mother. I'm covered in blood and all you can worry about is my dress. I was nearly killed tonight. You were almost left alone."

"And whose fault is that?" Leandra snapped.

"Not now Mother, please. I'm tired. It's been a long day, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to be lectured by you on this topic again."

"Not in the mood? Since when do you speak to me this way?"

Hawke rolled her eyes, "Not now, Mother. If you still want to badger me in the morning, I'll be available at your leisure, but for tonight, I'm quite done."

"I did not raise you to speak to me in this manner."

"Well, you didn't do much to raise me at all, not since the twins were born. In fact, I don't think you remembered you even had an elder daughter until they were both gone, so I thank you to hold your judgments till later. Good night."

Leandra flinched like she had been slapped in the face, her eyes narrowing at her daughter. Then without saying another word, she turned on her heel and stormed from the room. The moment the noblewoman was gone from the room, her daughter's shoulders slumped, her head dropped. Immediately, Cullen crossed the room to get to his friend, afraid that her mother's words had hurt her.

As he reached her, Sophia turned back toward him, her face betraying none of the emotion she was undoubtedly feeling. "Cullen, I know I promised you a drink, but I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for one now. I'll see you at the tavern in a few days, okay."

She moved to walk away, but Cullen took her arm, stopping her for a moment. "Hawke…Sophia are you alright?"

She gave him a slight smile. "I'm fine, Cullen, really. Sadly confrontations like the one you were just privileged to witness are not exactly uncommon between my mother and myself." She patted the templar on the arm. "Don't worry about me, a good night's sleep and I'll be right as rain."

"Are you sure?"

Sophia nodded. "I'm sure. And Cullen," she added, looking up at him, "thank you, for everything. I'll see you later, alright." Then she did something that surprised him; she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. It was an innocent, friendly gesture, but the contact sent shockwaves through his entire system.

"Good night, Hawke."

The walk back to the Gallows had never felt so short, and the air in Lowtown and the docks had never smelt so sweet.

-0-

_Hey everyone! I'm still here. I know it's been a while since I updated last, but the last few months have been really difficult. In November, my husband and I lost our second pregnancy in the last two years, and that more or less killed any inspiration or desire I had to write for a while. When I finally got back into the writing mood, our computer died, taking my first draft of this chapter with it. Needless to say, it's been a really tough last few months, but thanks for bearing with me. I promise not to abandon you all. I'm coaching softball at the moment, so I'll be a bit longer between updates (but hey, you've stuck with me for three months, hopefully you're interested enough to stick with me.)_

_Next chapter we'll get to see their "date," (well, a date with Cullen's best friend) Thanks for all the reviews and support._


	12. The Sleeping Dragon

Sophia opened her eyes and stared at the canopied ceiling above her. Despite the fact that she had been exhausted when she returned home, sleep had not come easily for the young woman who was not looking forward to facing her mother in the morning. It was true that she and Leandra had had their share of differences in the past, but Sophia had usually just taken her mother's criticism in relative silence. Last night, though, had been something of a turning point for the young rogue. For three years, she had put up with her mother's condescension and seemingly uncaring remarks, understanding that her mother had been raised in a noble household that did things differently. She had become accustomed to the looks of disappointment and the no-so-thinly veiled gibes sent her way, and Maker knows, she was used to enduring them in silence. But for some reason, every thing changed last night. She simply couldn't stand the way her mother had been talking to Cullen, especially after he had saved her from almost certain death. Sophia had been used to her mother's flippant attitude toward her, but for some reason, her snide remarks toward her templar friend seemed the catalyst that seemed to make Sophia finally snap at her mother. Strangely enough, it seemed oddly cathartic to let her mother know what she was feeling; she just hated that it had happened in front of Cullen.

Cullen… the templar had occupied a large portion of her mind ever since he had escorted her home. Seeing him there in that alleyway had made her realize just little she had seen of him lately. It was like he had fallen off the edge of the world only to stroll back in and rescue her. Over and over, she tried to mull over the reason for her friend's disappearance. True, he had claimed that it was due to the pressures and responsibilities of his job, but would that stop him from writing to her? And surely his job still brought him to the mainland on official business. Would have been too much for him to have stopped by at least once? At first she thought that he had decided that he didn't want to be her friend any longer, that their differences concerning mages were just too vast to over come, but if that was the case, then why would he invite her to join him and his friend at the tavern? Try as she might, she simply couldn't make sense of the matter, and it was frustrating her. She reasoned, though, that her dread of confronting her mother was occupying the main part of her mind and was likely the reason she couldn't figure it out. Maybe after this thing with her mother blew over, maybe then she could reason out this thing with Cullen.

With a sigh, Sophia rolled out of bed and threw on some clothes, steeling her nerves to face her mother. If she had been a bit more cowardly, she would haves snuck out to hide away in the Hanged Man for the entire day, but in all honesty, she just wanted to get the whole thing over with and she knew this was one conversation that she wouldn't be able to avoid. Her new-found attitude had given her a bit more focus, but she wasn't sure that it would last much longer. Making her way down into the kitchen, she was unsurprised to see her mother sitting at the table, nursing a cup of tea while Oranna busied herself around the kitchen.

"Orianna," she said when she saw her daughter enter, "do you think you could give us a moment, dear. I would like to speak with my daughter in private."

The elven servant nodded and hurried out of the room, giving Sophia a sad smile as she rushed past. "Come and have a seat dear," she said, her voice stern as she patted the chair that was sitting beside her. "I think it's time we had a long-overdue talk."

"I agree."

Leandra took a long drink of her tea as she regarded her daughter for a moment. Finally she sighed and set the glass down. "Sophia, deep down, I think I always knew that you resented me and what I've been trying to do for you. I just didn't realize just how much until last night."

"Mother, I don't res..."

"No, let me finish, please. I see the look in your eyes every time I try to find a suitable match for you. Each time I bring in a new young man, I watch you tense up and immediately begin to scrutinize him for any perceivable flaw, and once you find it you pounce on it and tear the poor man apart. I was afraid for a time that perhaps you simply weren't interested in men at all, and then the situation with that elf happened."

"His name is Fenris, not that elf, Mother," Sophia nearly growled.

"Yes, Fenris. I thought for a while that that was simply a move to irritate me, but I realized that perhaps you needed a more, how shall I say, rugged kind of man. That's why I considered Van Galdwitz. He is noble, strong, he should have been right up your ally, and, yet, like all the others, he seemed to fall short of your oh too lofty expectations. So what happened; what was wrong with this one?"

Sophia rolled her eyes, "He was all talk, Mother. When push came to shove, he froze up. And before you start throwing around accusations, no, I did not go out looking for trouble or did I immediately start looking for flaws. We were having a lovely time right up until that gang of thugs ambushed us. When he didn't do anything, I had to step in and try to do something."

"Be that as it may, you have likely alienated another potential suitor. If you keep this up, you're going to get a reputation."

"I don't care. Maker, Mother, I really don't." Sophia stood up and paced around the room. "Why should I care what a bunch of empty headed, noble jackasses think about me?"

"Because whether you like it or not, that is your future, this life is your future. There's no going back to the farm in Lothering; there's no going back to Ferelden. We have to make the most of our life here, and that means becoming part of noble society. I know you resent that, but darling, you must face the facts. You won't be able to support yourself by running about with those swords of yours forever. The day will come when you will need someone else, someone to help you, and when that day comes, I don't want you to be completely without suitable options. Those are the facts that you need to accept. You simply don't understand this world that you are living in."

"That's because this isn't my world," Hawke said with a sigh of exasperation. "I wasn't raised to lounge about in a sitting room with servants about to wait on me hand and foot. You and Father didn't raise me this way. I was raised to work, to bite, fight, and claw for everything that we had, and now that we suddenly have a little leisure in our lives you expect me to suddenly morph into this demure noble woman. I can't do that. How could you expect me to?"

"I don't expect you to change who you are," Leandra patronized. "I just expect you to adapt to our new situation as well as you adapted to those slums in Lowtown. For some reason you seemed right at home there," Leandra added with a bit of a snap. "You simply don't understand that you have opportunities now that most girls who grew up in your station could only dream of."

"And what opportunities would those be? The chance to marry someone who I find boring and repulsive, someone who will forever see me as a possession. That doesn't sound like much of an opportunity to me."

Leandra rolled her eyes, "Again with the dramatics. Not all noblemen are as heartless as you believe them to be. It is very cruel to paint them all with a single brush stroke, you know. Many of them are very kind and loving."

"So is that why you ran away and married an apostate because all the nobles were so kind?"

"Sophia, that was uncalled for. Besides, my situation was completely different. I wasn't defying my parents for the sake of defiance. I had found a man that I wanted to be with. You are just floundering around, squandering all your opportunities." Leandra crossed her arms and huffed slightly. "All I'm saying is try to be open to the possibilities in front of you. There are some good men out there if you will take the time to get to know them. Instead, you waste your time running around with those friends of yours who, we can both agree, do nothing for your reputation."

"I'm not friends with them because they make me look good. I'm friends with them because every single one of them have proven themselves to me in one way or another. We would have still been rotting away in Gamlen's without their help over the past few years, yet you still insist on treating them like scum every time you see them. Besides, I really couldn't care less about my reputation among the nobility; they resent our being here almost as much as I resent them."

"All the more reason for you to make a little effort. I don't think you realize just how precarious our situation is here. We could very well end up right back where we were in Gamlen's if the slightest thing went wrong. A good marriage could give us the security we need."

"Mother, I don't need or want to rely on someone else to support us. That is and has been my responsibility for years."

"And look where that has gotten us. Carver dead, your sister in the Circle.

"And you back in your childhood home," Sophia pointed out, "yet you seem to always forget that."

"No, I don't, Sophia. I know you are trying, Dear, but you're a lady. I just don't want you to be saddled with this kind of responsibility forever when you can have a man do it for you. If Carver were still here, then he would have taken over the family by now." Leandra sighed. "I just wish you would trust me. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

"Mistakes?" Sophia roared, anger and frustration toward her mother beginning to surface. Are you saying marrying Father was a mistake, that the whole life you lived in Fereldan was a mistake, because that's sure what it sounds like?"

"No, of course not," Leandra said quickly. "Sophia, I loved your father very much, but marrying him did make my life much more difficult that it would have been had I listened to my parents' advice. The life I chose was not an easy one; and I didn't want you to find yourself in a similar situation down the road when you have other options available to you now. I can't help but imagine how much simpler life would have been for me."

Sophia shook her head, turning away, unable to face her mother. "Well I'm sorry we were such an inconvenience to you," she snapped back out at her mother as she stormed from the house. She was afraid to say anything more, afraid that she would say something hurtful that she could never take back. Behind her, Leandra managed to keep a brave face until she heard the front door slam. The moment the house was quiet, the stoic noblewoman broke down, burying her head in her arms as she sobbed.

-0-

Sophia's mind was blissfully numb as her daggers moved in synchronicity around her, her body flowing rhythmically with them. She could feel the drops of sweat rolling down her cheeks and back as her muscles burned in protest, an indication that she had been at it for a while, but for the moment, it didn't bother her in the least. Sweat was therapeutic, a safer way for everyone involved for her to work out her stress. Already she was feeling a thousand times better.

The door behind her opened, but Sophia's concentration never broke as she spun around bringing her blunted daggers across the chest of the practice dummy, sending straw and dust flying across the room. Her next move sliced the midsection of the dummy open, spilling the remainder of sand and straw onto the floor, decimating it completely. Sighing, she wiped her sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she turned to face Aveline who was standing behind her, watching from the doorway that lead into the barracks.

"Hawke, I think you may need to take a break; I think you've been going at it in here since I got here, and that was two hours ago." The red-headed warrior glanced at the pile of destroyed dummies. "And if you keep going at this rate, you're going to go through my entire stock pile."

"Sorry about that," Sophia said with a grin. "I'll replace them. I just needed to escape for a little while, let off some steam, ya know."

"I can imagine, especially after that date last night went so well."

Sophia looked up at the grin on the guard captain's face and cursed Donnic under her breath. "So he told you what happened, did he?"

"He couldn't exactly keep it a secret; after all there was a massive pile of bodies in the street that had to be cleared out this morning, a fact that I simply couldn't overlook. How was I supposed to know you were involved?" Aveline smiled gently. "If it makes you feel any better, Donnic did try to keep it a secret as much as he could, but when his report stated that two nobles had been attacked, I demanded to know who had been attacked. I recognized Galdwitz's name immediately, so I knew you had to have been there."

"You don't plan on telling the others, do you? You know Varric will never let me hear the end of it."

"Do I ever tell Varric things that I hear on official Guard Captain business?"

Hawke sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"Although, I heard that you had an interesting savior, one templar that has been strangely absent for quite some time."

Sophia signed. This was the very reason that she had come to the keep instead of going to the Hanged Man to try to work through her stress. She had wanted to escape without really talking about what had happened. Not because she was particularly embarrassed about being ambushed and needing rescue; that detail actually amused her greatly now that she had processed the previous night's events. She knew very well that she could have escaped quite easily had she been alone; only her desire to see to Ulrich's safety had put her in the precarious position. No, he attack itself didn't really phase her. It was the whole situation with Cullen, and more specifically, her reaction to it. She had yet to really work out what happened in her own mind. Cullen striding out of the shadows last night to rescue her, had stirred something in her, something she hadn't felt since the whole ordeal with Fenris, something she wasn't sure she herself understood, and definitely not something that she was ready to talk about. That was why she had come to the keep; she had hoped that Aveline would have focused on the attack, not the rescue.

"What's there to talk about?"

Aveline shrugged, "You tell me. Donnic said just mentioned how friendly you two seemed when he saw you."

"Well, we're friends."

"And that he seemed quite eager to walk you home."

"A polite measure, nothing more. He simply wanted to make sure I made it home safely."

Aveline grinned slyly. "If you say so. But you have to admit, Hawke, he is an attractive man and he does seem to enjoy your company. Besides, it's clear that he cares for you."

Hawke glanced over at her friend. "Since when did you become so observant?"

"It wasn't hard, Hawke. I saw him, we all saw him when you were injured. It really tore him up. You don't get upset like that over someone you only have casual feelings about."

Sophia was silent for a while. If she was looking fore relationship advice, Aveline wasn't exactly the first person that she would have gone to. Since her husband's death, the warrior had seemed more interested in swords than men and love. However, she had been married once before; perhaps Aveline had a clearer view of things than Sophia realized.

The guard captain grinned and broke the silence between them. "Besides, you have to admit, he's good-looking, and especially in that uniform."

Hawke couldn't help but laugh at that. "Really, Aveline, the templar uniform? When would that ever be a turn-on for me? Until very recently, the mere sight of the chantry sun would double my heart rate. No, if anything, the templar uniform is a bit of a turn off."

"All that aside, do you think that there might be a chance that maybe something might be possible between you two. I mean..."

"Aveline, I'm just going to stop you there. It's only been a month or so since that thing with Fenris ended or fizzled out or whatever, and I'm not sure I'm ready to jump into something new despite what my mother thinks is best for me. Cullen is my friend, a friend that I haven't seen in a while..."

"A friend you haven't seen since he saw you and Fenris together," Aveline pointed out, stopping Sophia's dead.

"What did you say?" she stuttered as things started to become more clear.

"Cullen disappeared when your fling with Fenris started; did you realize that? I mean, he was there the night you two kissed for the first time, and I saw the look on his face when it happened. He seemed devastated to say the least. "

Then everything clicked, the templar's sudden disappearance, the surprised look on his face she mentioned that she was on a date, his eagerness to spend time with her again, it all suddenly made sense.

"You think he likes me."

Aveline shrugged. "Well, Varric seems to think he does. He's the one who mentioned it to me; I just agreed with him."

"Now wait just a minute, you and Varric talked about me and Cullen," Sophia asked, aghast. "How did that even come up?"

"He was in here a few days ago to talk about the patrols in Lowtown and noticed Wesley's shield," she said, nodding to the well-preserved templar shield on the wall behind her desk. "We got to talking about him and one thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were talking about Cullen. Varric pointed out the fact that Cullen more or less disappeared after you and Fenris got together in the Hanged Man. You didn't realize?"

"No, not really. Actually, I'm sad to say, I hadn't really realized that he had disappeared until I saw him last night. I have been a bit self obsessed here lately."

"Well now you know," Aveline said, her grin sneaking back onto her face. "So what are you going to do about it, now?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, Aveline, if something is going to happen between Cullen and myself, it will happen naturally. I'm not going to do anything to encourage or discourage his advances if he even makes any. I'll just wait a while and see how it goes because, to be perfectly honest, I'm not quite ready to put myself back out there again."

"Why not? Look, the thing with Fenris was unique, him not being able to overcome his own issues."

"And you don't think Cullen has issues? He was a Templar, raised in the chantry his entire life. Trust me, he has plenty of issues of his own, and I'm not eager to tackle them just now."

"I suppose I understand. It's not always easy to jump back in once you've gotten your heart broken," Aveline admitted. "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Don't close yourself off completely to the possibility of something more just because he's sworn an vow or two to the chantry. If I had let that stand in the way with Wesley, I would have missed out on the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Hawke was quiet for a moment before looking up at her red-headed friend. "Was it worth it, putting yourself out there, letting yourself love him only to lose him?"

"Most definitely," Aveline said softly. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat, even knowing what was to come. I wouldn't trade those three years we had together for anything." The guard smiled over at her friend. "Now, if you're done tearing apart my practice dummies, I have some work for you."

"Oh," Sophia said, taking a sheet of paper from her hand. Sophia scanned the document and grinned. "The location of the Silent Sister's hideout? Aveline, you always know how to cheer a girl up. Meet me outside my place a dusk?"

"Can't wait."

-0-

Sophia Hawke sat at the bar of the Sleeping Dragon, lightly tracing the lip of her drink with her middle finger as she kept an eye on the door. The tavern was busy for a weeknight, but no so crowded that it was uncomfortable to the cautious rogue. Sophia had positioned herself at the end of the bar, her back against the wall, but positioned in such a way that she could see the entire room as well as the door. She was carefully watching her fellow patrons as she waited for the two templars to arrive. The clientele of the tavern was a little more middle class than she was used to, mostly merchants and a few guards, but the change from the Hanged Man wasn't all that significant. There were still the same drunken conversations, the same cheesy attempts to attract the attention of the opposite sex, and the same busty waitresses carting drinks to thirsty customers. The only problem was that these men didn't know not to mess with her like the men in the Hanged Man had learned. Already, she had been approached by several men, offering her the pleasure of their company. Most had been gracious when she turned them down, a few muttered some rather insulting comments at her, but none had been overly forward, not yet anyway.

Sighing, she took a sip from the tankard and let her mind return to the issue that had been tumbling around her brain for the past day and a half, the issue of a certain templar and his alleged feelings for her. Ever since Aveline had voice her and Varric's theory, it was all Sophia could really think about. She had never really considered Cullen in a romantic way; she had been too focused on her crush of Fenris to really give the red-headed templar that much thought. Now, though, she found the idea appealing to her more and more, despite her apprehension towards starting another relationship. Her feelings toward Fenris had lessened a great deal over the past month, but the scars from his painful rejection still hurt from time to time. She just wasn't sure that she was ready for something more.

"Hi there, beautiful, you're looking awful lonely here sitting all by yourself. Why don't I buy you a drink to cheer you up a bit?"

Sophia fought the urge to roll her eyes as she glanced over at the man who had plopped into the seat beside her. He was a tall man, one of the more solidly built men in the tavern, with thinning brown hair and an eager expression on his face. She had noticed this one circling her for the last ten minutes and was wondering when he'd finally make his move. "You're a bit too late," she answered with a shrug, "I've already got a drink, but thanks for the offer."

"Well, then I'll buy you another one, and you can finish them both at my table."

"That's really okay," Sophia said dryly, hoping she could shoot the man down without him causing a scene (a possibility that was beginning to seem less and less likely). "I'm actually meeting someone here."

"Well, how bout I keep you company till he arrives?" he asked slyly, moving his stool closer to hers as he leaned forward on the bar. "My name is Glenn and it's against my nature to let a pretty thing like you sit here so sad and alone."

Sophia groaned internally; this man just couldn't take a hint. "Really, I'm doing just fine on my own."

"Only just fine, well let me stay around a while and you'll be doing so much better than just fine," Glen said, moving his hand to her knee. Sophia cringed as his thumb started to make circles on her leg. "You never know, spend some time with me and by the time your friend show up, you might prefer my company and decide to stick around."

Sophia glanced down at her leg and was about to forcibly remove his hand when she saw Cullen and Barry walk through the door. She grinned slightly when the red-headed templar met her eye and began making his way quickly through the crowd, a stern expression on his face as he glared at the man sitting beside her. Glenn, thinking the grin was meant for him, began moving his hand up and down her leg as he continued to talk to her. It was in that moment that Sophia realized that this could get ugly fast if Cullen tried to forcibly remove the man for her presence, and though she was certain that he could easily take the man out, she didn't want the night to be ruined so early. There was only one easy way out of this.

"Cullen," she cried, flinging herself off the stool and throwing herself into the templar's arms. Without a moment's hesitation, she pulled his head down, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss. Much to her pleasure and surprise, Cullen didn't seem phased one bit by her unexpected show of affection. Instead, he instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and turning her away from the stammering man on the barstool. After a moment, she pulled back and gazed up at him in the most loving way she could muster. "You, sir, are late."

"My deepest apologies, love," he said, giving her another quick peck on the lips. "We had some trouble getting Barry's sword back from the smithy," he added, nodding at his fellow templar standing behind him. "You know how he is; if it's not razor sharp, it's not good enough."

Sophia glanced over Cullen's shoulder at the other templar who was resting both hands on the hilt of his sword as he glared at the man on the barstool behind them. "Guilty," he confessed with a shrug, giving her a quick wink. "But it's all good now. So, who's your new friend?"

"Oh, how rude of me," she said, turning around, but never leaving the circle of Cullen's arms. "This is Glenn; he was keeping me company until you two arrived. Glen, this is Ser Barry and Ser Cullen."

"A pleasure," he muttered, looking at the two stern faced men cautiously. "Well, I guess I'll just, well, good night," he stuttered before scrambling off the barstool and disappearing into the crowd.

Sophia laughed, burying her head in Cullen's chest as he scattered away. "Thanks guys, I really didn't want to break his wrist and get thrown out of the bar before you even arrived."

Cullen grinned, his face reddening slightly. "My pleasure."

"I bet it was," muttered Barry softly behind them, earning a scathing look from his fellow templar. "So, Cullen, why don't you get the drinks, and this lovely lady and I will find us a booth."

Nodding, Cullen glanced quickly down at her before giving her one last squeeze before turning her over to Barry. "My Lady," the templar grinned, extending his arm to the rogue. "Your table awaits." Sophia laughed, patting the young warrior on the arm as the two made their way to an empty table in the middle of the tavern. "So, that was an interesting greeting."

Sophia blushed slightly. "I know, but I didn't want to start a fight. Guys like that tend to get a bit territorial, and I didn't want to see anyone get hurt. I figured the quickest way to defuse the situation was to make it clear that I was not available."

"Only one problem with that, thought." Hawke cocked her head and glanced up at him, confused. "Well, isn't it obvious? Since everyone in the bar saw your little exchange, you're going to have to be all lovie-dovie for the rest of the evening. Think you can pull it off?"

Glancing over her shoulder at the approaching templar, Sophia smiled, a warm feeling pooled in her stomach. "I think that's definitely doable," she whispered, moving over to give Cullen room to move in beside her.

-0-

Cullen's head was spinning as he watched Barry walk away with a laughing and smiling Hawke on his arm. While he understood Sophia's reason behind the impromptu kiss, a simple means avoid a confrontation, it still didn't change the way it felt holding her in his arms. It was a dream come true, holding her, feeling her soft lips against his; even though he knew that there were no feelings behind her actions, he couldn't help but hope that there was more behind it.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Cullen grabbed the drinks and made his way through the crowd to find his friends. They were relatively easy to spot, as most people had taken to giving them a rather wide berth thanks to Barry's sword that was resting casually on the table between them. As he approached, Sophia turned her head, cocking it slightly to the side as she moved over to let him sit. Once he was seated, she shifted so that she was resting against his side, prompting him to drape his arm across the back of the booth behind her. This, too, he understood; to the outside eye, this gesture would seem one of possession, of protection between a man and his woman, a clear message that she was off limits.

"So," Barry said after taking a long drink from his tankard. "Have you had any further trouble with that group of bandits?"

Sophia chuckled and shook her head. "Trouble, no, we cleared out their head quarters last night. Once I was in a proper set of armor and not an evening dress, they were quite easy to handle."

"You managed to get all of them? Wow," Cullen replied.

"Probably not all of them; there were likely some out and about. We did manage to catch them off guard, so none of them managed to escape their compound. The ones who were out will likely scatter now that their base has been destroyed; their only strength was in their numbers anyway. One or two on their own shouldn't pose a problem to anyone, really."

"That's good to hear. So how many of you went in to take them out?" Barry asked.

"Well, we had quite a few guards stationed around in case any of them escaped, but a team of four of us cleared out their compound."

Cullen coughed slightly, "Only four of you? Why so few?"

"The element of surprise is key in dealing with most enemies, especially rogues, so small groups work best. I usually go in with one other melee fighter and an archer." She started to say something else, but shot a wary glance at Barry and fell silent.

"Ah, it's alright. I know you work with a few mages as well," Barry said. "You've been around mages enough to know when things are dangerous. I won't say anything."

Sophia nodded. "Thanks, I know Cullen is aware of my companions, but with you being a templar too, I just couldn't be too careful." She took a sip from the drink in front of her before turning back to the templars. "So, was that true what you told Glenn about needing to get Barry's sword back from the smithy?"

"Nah," said Cullen. "Kyle, the guy who runs one of the ferries over to the Gallows was unusually talkative this evening, and we had a hard time getting away from him."

"And talking about a razor-sharp sword is much more intimidating than not wanting to be rude to ferry boat operator," Barry pointed out.

"True, I think that Glenn nearly wet himself when you mentioned the sword," Sophia added with a laugh." She was about to say something more when two flamboyantly dressed men stepped out into the middle of the room, drawing everyone's attention.

Cullen and his friends watched as the two brothers began what was clearly a well-oiled routine that combined singing, joke telling, and juggling that had the crowd in stitches. Though the gleemen were thoroughly entertaining, most of Cullen's pleasure was derived from hearing Sophia's carefree laugh beside him. Every once and a while, he would glance down at her, content just to watch her as she was watching the brothers.

"Now, our final trick of the evening will require the assistance of a lovely volunteer," one of the brothers said, approaching their table with a smile on his face. "Ser, would you be so kind as to let us borrow your lovely companion for a moment?" he asked Cullen.

"We promise to bring her back," the other added, sliding up to the table. "If you're lucky, all in one piece!"

Cullen glanced over at Sohpia who merely smiled and shrugged. "She's all yours," he said, sliding out of the booth to allow her out.

"Excellent!" the two bards shouted together, each one taking a hand and leading Hawke toward the middle of the floor.

"Now," the taller brother said, handing her one of his juggling batons to her after they introduced themselves to her. "Just to calm your fears a bit, I'd like for you to examine these. Just look them over. They're light weight, blunt, and relatively harmless. See?" He said tapping one against his head. "Go ahead, give it a try."

Hawke turned the baton over in her hands for a moment before she reached over and lightly thumped the man on the head. The shorter brother threw his head back in laughter. "A quick one, this one is, eh brother?"

"She sure is. Now we will be juggling back and forth with this lovely lady in between us, passing the items back and forth in front of and behind you. Now you've seen how harmless these are. The question though, is does she trust us?" the other replied, turning and smiling at Hawke. "So, my lady Sophia, do you trust us?"

"Sure, you two seem skilled enough."

"We were hoping you'd say that," the brothers chorused together, tossing the batons behind them and pulling out a set of throwing knives, "because this is what we're actually using."

Cullen's eyes narrowed and he shifted uneasily at this new revelation. "She'll be alright," Barry hissed across the table at him. "They wouldn't put a paying customer in danger; it's bad for business." Cullen merely shook his head and turned back to the jugglers who had just handed her one of the knives.

"So, do you still trust us? As you can see, these knives are rather sharp."

"Would you like me to test it out?" she asked, pretending like she was going to tap him on the head with the knife.

The brothers laughed along with the rest of the tavern. "No, my lady," the shorter of the two brothers said. "We wouldn't want you to injure yourself. I'm sure someone as lovely as yourself would know what to do with a knife like this."

Cullen snickered to himself as Hawke raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, really; is that what you think?" She spun the knife in her hand, testing its weight and balance. "Do you mind?"

The brothers quickly exchanged a glance then motioned for her to continue. Smiling to herself, Sophia's wrist flicked quickly, flinging the knife across the room and lodging it into a post in the back of the room. The room erupted in a combination of laughter and cat calls as the two stunned gleemen glanced back at the grinning woman standing between them. "Well, I stand corrected," the shorter said, giving Sophia a sweeping bow. "Clearly you know your way around a knife, and as you can all see, the knife is definitely sharp, making our trick all the more dangerous." With a slight flourish, he pulled out a spare knife, leaving the one Sophia had thrown lodged in the wall.

"Now, dear lady," the taller said, taking her arm and leading her into the center of the room, "would please take your place in the center of the room." His brother took his place on the opposite side of the room, three knives in hand. The elder turned to take his place, but stopped for a moment and turned back to Sophia. "One question, though. Do you like your hair?"

"My hair?"

"Yes, it's lovely; I was just wondering if you had planned on cutting it any time soon, say in the next day or so?"

"It's not in my immediate plans, no."

"Oh," he said, a faux nervous look on his face. "Well, we'll try our best to make sure it stays that way." Sophia laughed as the juggler moved into his position. "Okay, brother, on three. One…two…"

"Now are you going to throw behind her or am I going to the back? I can never remember."

"I throw to the front, and you are going behind, unless, of course, you prefer to throw to the front, then I'd be more than happy to throw behind."

"No the behind is fine."

"Better than fine, I'd say," the taller said, raising his eyebrows and giving her an appraising look and drawing a groan from Sophia. "Alright, on three. One…two…three." As soon as he finished, the two began to juggle, working in perfect synchronicity, passing every third knife that left their hands to the other brother. Sophia stood calmly between them, watching as the knives flew past her face with a serene look on her face, never moving a muscle. After a minute or two, the brothers caught the knives and bowed to the applauding audience. Both brothers moved in, each of them kissing her on the cheek before leading her back to Cullen.

"You took that a lot better than I would have," Barry said as the gleemen made their way around the tavern. "I think I would have flinched every time one of those things flew past my fact."

Hawke shrugged, polishing off the last of her drink. "Ah, it wasn't so bad while it was happening. Those knives were a good foot or so away from my face; I'd say it just looked more nerve wrecking than it really was."

"I think you shocked them with your little knife trick," Cullen said, draping his arm across the booth behind her as she moved back against his side.

"It shocked more than them," Barry pointed out. "You should have seen that guy, Glenn's, face when you did it. I think he paled about three shades. He disappeared as soon as the brothers were finished."

"We were equally impressed by your skills with the blade," the bard brothers said as they stopped by the table. "Mind if we join you for a bit?"

"By all means," Cullen said, moving over to give the men a place to sit at the table. "Let me order you two a drink. That was quite a show."

"I'm honored you enjoyed it," said the eldest. "And thank you for allowing us to borrow Sophia here. It's been a long time since we had a volunteer who was half as entertaining. If she was available, I think one of us would marry her just so we could incorporate her into the act, but as I can see, she is clearly not available. A loss to all other men. Though, I must ask, just where did you find her?"

Cullen laughed and pulled Sophia closer. "I found her down by the docks one day."

"Um, no you didn't. I think I saved your hide on the Wounded Coast long before that," Sophia protested.

"Oh, so we're talking about saving one another now, are we because the stories I could tell? I think I'm in the lead when it comes to that particular competition. Besides, you disappeared for about two years after that until I found you."

Sophia grinned, "That's fine; we'll just say you found me on the docks."

The taller brother laughed. "I'm Samuel, by the way," he said, extending his hand across the table "and my less attractive brother over there is Eric."

"Sam and Eric, I'm Cullen and this is my best friend Barry, and of course, you already know Sophia."

"Of course, though I am intrigued. You are a noblewoman are you not?"

"More or less," Sophia answered. "I have an estate in Hightown."

"I assumed as much," Sam said. "So, where did a noble woman like you learn to handle a knife like that?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Does it have anything to do with you being at the docks?"

Sophia sent a glare up at Cullen. "Not exactly, though my original line of work did take me to the docks frequently." Knowing looks crossed Sam and Eric's faces, forcing a blushing Sophia to back pedal quickly. "No, no, no, not that. I wasn't a hooker; I was a mercenary."

"A mercenary? A noblewoman like you, never!" Eric exclaimed, stunned.

"Yep, me. I moved my family up here from Ferelden during the blight I worked as a merc for a year or so to buy our way into the city. I still do occasional mercenary work now, though my other business ventures keep me rather busy. Before we moved up here, I was a soldier in King Cailan's army back in Ferelden. That's where I really learned to work with knives and daggers."

"King Cailan's army, so were you at Ostagar?"

Sophia nodded sadly. "My brother and I both were. We were assigned to the rear guard when the darkspawn horde killed the king and barely made it back home alive. We fled for Kirckwall just as the horde was beginning to descend on Lothering."

"Wow, to look at you, I would have never guessed that," Samuel said. "You definitely look the part of a noblewoman now. Although, I'm surprised you'd walk around unarmed; I thought a former mercenary would be caught dead without her weapons."

Sophia laughed softly to herself. "Oh, I'm never unarmed. I might not be wearing my full set of armor, but trust me, I've got plenty of weapons on me. In fact, I bet you the next round of drinks that you can't guess how many weapons are on me right now."

Samuel sat back and looked at her. "Well, let's see. You know about throwing knives, so you're likely more of a rogue than a warrior." Sophia nodded her head. "So I'm wager that there are two daggers in your boots."

"A fair assumption; so is that your guess, two?"

Samuel shook his head. "No, I'd wager that you have at least two more strapped somewhere else, so I'd guess four. What do you think Eric?"

"Sounds about right."

She turned to the templars, "Do you two agree with them?" Barry held up three fingers, but Cullen merely shrugged.

"Well you're all wrong ," Hawke answered with a grin. "There's seven, and that's not counting the bombs and poisons that are in my cloak."

"Seven?" the men at the table exclaimed.

Cullen looked down at her small frame. "Where in Thedas do you manage to hid seven weapons?"

"Well, Samuel was right; there are two in my boots. There are also two strapped to my leg, hence the skirt. It makes it easier to get to them in a fight. I also have two knives with retractable blades hidden in my tunic as well as this," she added, reaching up and pulling a long slender rod from her head, releasing her long, raven hair from the messy bun that the rod had held in place."

"A poking stick doesn't count," Barry pointed out.

"But does this?" she asked unsheathing a thin, stiletto dagger filed to a deadly point.

"Yeah, that definitely does," Samuel said. "Well, once again my lady, you have stumped us. I do hope to see you again the next time we pass through the city."

"I'd be glad to. Just ask for me at the Hanged Man or ask one of the guards to direct you to Hawke; they'll know how to find me."

"Hawke?"

"My last name, most people, even my friends just call me Hawke."

"Fantastic Lady Hawke," Eric said as he and his brother stood up. "And thank you again for making this a most entertaining night. It's a rare treat when we find ourselves the ones who are entertained." Taking Sophia's hand, Eric planted a swift kiss on it as he and his brother disappeared again into the crowd.

As they were leaving, Cullen noticed as Hawke stifled a quick yawn. "You getting a little tired?"

Sophia smiled slightly, "A bit. I had a late night last night, clearing up that hideout and didn't sleep in that late this morning."

"Why don't you let me walk you home, then?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. Stay with here with Barry, I'll be fine getting home. Besides, I've intruded on your guys' night enough as it is."

"No, you two go ahead," said Barry as he too got up from the table, "I see a lovely lady over at the bar who has been shooting me looks all night. I'll see you tonight at the Chantry, alright?"

"Fine," Cullen said with a wave of his hand. "Just don't get into too much trouble." Glancing down at Hawke, he offered her his hand. "So, ready to head home?" Sophia nodded and after grabbing her cloak, followed him out into the warm night air.

"So why did he say he'd meet you at the Chantry? Are you guys working tonight or something?" Sophia asked after a little while.

"Nah, we usually stay overnight at the Chantry when we come over in the evenings. The ferry only runs for emergency situations after dark and the Chantry keeps a few beds open for templars, so we usually just stay there instead of renting a room somewhere."

"I wish you would have said something before," Sophia said, glancing up at the templar. "I have plenty of spare rooms in the estate; you all could have just stayed there."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Oh, it's no imposition. You've seen my home, right? It's far too big for just me and my mother, and Oriana would love to have someone to make breakfast for. Mother doesn't eat much and, more often than not, I sleep through breakfast."

"Oriana? That slave girl we found in the blood mage's cave? How has she been doing?"

"Alright I suppose. She's still a bit shaken up by what she witnessed, but I think she's adjusting well. Although I'm still having trouble getting her to accept payment; she hasn't quite gotten used to being a servant and not a slave."

"Really, why is that?"

"Well, she's probably never considered the fact that there was any alternative to slavery. Her father was a slave, so she was born into slavery. In all honesty, I don't really need her, but I couldn't just let her go on her own. There's no way she would survive out alone."

"That's kind of you; I'm sure she appreciates it."

"I hope so. I just don't want to take advantage of her, so I have Bodahn teaching her how to read and taking her to the market so she can learn about money. I don't think she'll ever get to the point she could make it on her own though; some things are just too engrained in her."

"Just give her some time," Cullen said as they approached her door. "Well, I guess this is goodnight."

"Yeah," Hawke said with a smile. "I had a good time tonight, Cullen; thank you so much for inviting me." She glanced down for a moment, blushing a bit. "And I'm sorry if I crossed any lines there with what happened with Glenn; I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Cullen felt his face redden slightly. "Not at all, it was…um a surprise to say the least, but uncomfortable would definitely not be a word I'd use to describe it."

"Good," she said softly. "I'm glad I didn't make you uncomfortable; I didn't want to scare you off."

"Definitely not scared."

"So, does that mean I might be seeing more of you then?"

Cullen glanced down at her, and could help but notice how adorable she looked biting her bottom lip as she waited for him to answer. "I think that will be a distinct possibility. I have an evening off in a few days; would you like to meet up at the Hanged Man, maybe go get something to eat."

"I'd like that," she said softly. Leaning in, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Good night, Cullen, and thanks for an enjoyable evening."

"Good night, Hawke," Cullen said as he watched her disappear into the house, his cheek still tingling from the warmth of her kiss.

-0-

_Whew… that took a while. I did warn you all that it would be a while, so thanks for sticking with me. Softball season is over, and hopefully, I'll have some free time to start writing again. Let me know what you all think._


	13. Taking it Slow

Fenris slouched in a lonely booth in the back corner of the Hanged Man, sulking slightly while nursing the bottle of Orlesian wine in front of him. Since it was unusual for him to have more than a few drinks a night when in public, he wasn't usually one to splurge on expensive spirits, especially not the ones the Hanged Man served, but tonight was different. Tonight he was sure he'd be finishing this entire bottle because, once again, _he_ was here. It had nearly a month since he had to endure seeing the red-headed templar plastered Hawke's side, and he had almost forgotten how much it had graded on his nerves. But now, for the third time in the last two weeks, Cullen was back, sitting beside Hawke, his arm draped around her shoulders as the two of them talked and laughed with the rest of the group. He wasn't fawning all over her exactly. He was just there, his arm was draped casually across her shoulders; from time to time he would lean down and whisper something to her or she would nudge or smile up at him. That was the whole extent of their physical contact. To the outside observer, it would seem like nothing more than a normal exchange between two friends, but to Fenris's way of thinking it was enough to drive any former lover to drinking, excessive drinking.

The scene in front of him was not all that different from what played out any other night in the tavern. Varric was the center of attention, entertaining the entire room with what was clearly an elaborate and hilarious story that obviously involved Hawke in some way because he kept gesturing toward her throughout his story. Every time he would, the dark-headed rogue would bury her head in the templar's side while the rest of the party laughed. The rest of Hawke's usual companions were there too; well, everyone but Anders. The mage, claiming that he had work to do in the clinic, had made himself scarce over the past two weeks; though Fenris himself couldn't say that he was missed in the least. The blonde man had seemed more frazzled than usual over the past few weeks, but Fenris assumed it was du to Cullen's reappearance.

Fenris sighed and took another long drink, finishing the nearly the full glass in front of him before pouring another, trying his best not to allow his eyes to travel back across the room. Cullen and Hawke. He knew that this would happen eventually; it was only a matter of time really. Hawke was a beautiful and charismatic woman; there was no doubt that someone would come in and swoop her up once he cut her loose. He would have been a fool not to expect it eventually; he just hadn't expected it to happen so suddenly. One day, Hawke was complaining about some nobleman her mother had set her up with and the next Cullen was back. It was enough to completely turn his stomach. Yes, he had been the one to end the…well the whatever you could call what happened between him and Hawke. It wasn't exactly a one-night stand, but it wasn't long enough to be considered a relationship either. But whatever it was, it was his choice to end it; he just hadn't realized just how hard it would be to deal with the consequences. He knew that it would be better for them, for all those involved, in the long run, but that understanding didn't change the fact that seeing Cullen and Hawke together, laughing easily, exchanging those looks, was killing him inside.

There was no denying the fact that he still cared very deeply for Hawke; his leaving was never about his feelings in the first place. During their one night together when he had seen glimpses of his former life, of people he had once known, he had been frightened that those memories could tear him away from Kirkwall, from Hawke, and that thought terrified him. For the first time in his life, he was happy that his past was a blur and was desperate to keep it that way; lest his past drive him from the thing he cared about most. Those lost memories constituted a risk, a risk he couldn't bear to take. There was already a sister lurking somewhere in his past; Hadriana was sure to point that out. Who's to say there wasn't someone else, a former lover, a wife, children?

There was no way of knowing; all he knew was that being with Hawke brought those lost memories to the surface. He simply couldn't risk regaining those memories, a life that could pull him away. So instead of getting involved with Hawke and taking the risk that all those memories come back for good, Fenris decided to do the cowardly thing. He would end it with Hawke; that way his past no longer posed any threat to him. With an empty past, he could remain at Hawke's side as a companion, never again acting on his true feelings for her. It meant letting go of the thing he desired most, it meant watching her find happiness with someone else, but it also gave him a certainty that he could hold on to what was most important to him. At least this way, he could stay by her side and keep her a part of his life, even though it meant sacrificing a chance of being with her. He would be her sword, her shield, and her friend while another claimed her heart. He just wanted Hawke to be happy, and he knew the Templar could do just that; it would just take his heart some time to get used to the idea.

"I'm sure it hurts, doesn't it, seeing her with him and her looking so happy," Merrill said, slipping quietly into the seat beside him. "It's why you look so cross all the time, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fenris muttered, not really wanting to talk about it, least of all with the young Dalish mage.

"Oh, I think you do; it's just hard to admit it, that's all. It seems like he has all that you desire. Despite everything, watching them like this, he seems so right for her sometimes."

"He is right for her, better for her than I am anyway," Fenris said with a sneer.

"I suppose it seems that way at first glace. There are times I almost envy her. She's lucky, you know, to have found two men who both seem so right for her. It's a shame only one seems to realize it."

"I was never right for her."

Merrill cocked her head and looked up at him. "You really believe that, don't you? I suppose you do; that explains why you left, after all. You must truly believe that to have given up so easily."

"Easily, you think I gave…ugh, you are so infuriating sometimes," Fenris groaned, wishing he could go back to his wine and sulking in peace. "What do you want anyway, Merrill?"

"Oh, nothing much; I just wanted to see how you are doing, how you're handling all of this. I know this isn't easy for you, and I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about it."

"I'm fine."

"Alright, keep to yourself if you must. Most importantly, though, I wanted to make sure you're not planning on going anywhere. You're not going to leave her now that she's moved on, are you? She's still going to need you, you know."

"I have no plans to go anywhere, witch; not that it's any of your business."

"No, I suppose you're none of my business, but Hawke is. She's been a good friend to me, and I know that despite what's happened between you two she would be quite upset if you disappeared. Beyond that, she's going to need people she can trust."

Fenris glared down at the Dalish elf sitting beside him. "What makes you say that?"

"I observe things. I may not understand everything that happens around me, human culture is so odd sometimes, but I do understand the nature of feelings and human nature. Hawke is special; everyone can see that. That's why she's been thrust into the middle of everyone else's problems, and you can't get involved in everyone else's problems and come out unscathed. It's a shame too; she's had a lot of hurt in her life, I'm afraid there's more to come. She'll need people around her who care for her."

"Again, what makes you say that?"

"Look around us, Fenris. The Qunari are not the only problem in this city, though they are the most obvious, and perhaps the most pressing. I'm not even sure, though, if they are the most dangerous. There's a storm coming; I know you can feel it. The tension in the Gallows and the Chantry is almost palpable, and there they stand," she said, glancing toward Hawke and Cullen, "on complete opposite sides of the issue. This will not end well."

"You could say the same for me, you know."

"Yes, but your honor and your vows do not hold you to that hate you harbor so deep within you. Your honor will hold you to her. I'm afraid his will pull him the other way."

Fenris shook his head. "They both know where the other stands on the issue of mages and it is clearly not a problem."

Merrill sighed. "No, not now because the issue hasn't become one yet, but it will. Oh, it will, and when it does it will divide them. It's like they're standing on opposite sides of a small stream. Now it is easy to reach across. There's no danger or hurt separating the two sides, but in time that stream will grow into a mighty river that will undoubtedly divide them."

Fenris looked down at her for a moment before rolling his eyes. "When did you become so observant all of a sudden?"

"Oh, this isn't sudden," Merrill said quietly. "I was trained to take over one day for my clan's Keeper, you know. We study all forms of history and knowledge and are trained to see the winds of change and rivers of strife before they become dangerous enough to hurt our people. It is how we shield and guide our people. I may miss the smaller things in this world, which makes me seem hopelessly naïve," she said, the usually dreamy quality in her voice suddenly gone, "but I see the big picture very clearly. Why do you think I'm so interested in rebuilding the history of our people at any cost, and believe me, I do know the cost? The more I know of the past, the better prepared I'll be for what the future holds." She glanced back over at the two humans. "Poor things, they have no idea what's in store for them."

"You're wrong."

Merril smiled sweetly. "Maybe, I would very much like to be wrong in this case, for all our sakes," she said, the dreamy tone back in her voice as she got up to leave. "All the same, it's a long way off. The Qunari will need to be dealt with first anyway." She glanced back up at him, "You are staying aren't you?" Fenris nodded, staring ahead at the two humans. "Good, that's one less thing I have to worry about, then."

Fenris didn't even notice her leave; instead his mind was racing over the things she had just said. Was there any truth, any wisdom in what she had said or was it the simple ramblings of one who was young and unaware of the world around her? Fenris would like to believe the later, but now he wasn't quite sure anymore. Sighing to himself, the elf finished off the bottle with a long drink and was tempted to hurl the glass against the wall, suddenly realizing that he may have made a serious mistake, one that may end up hurting Hawke even more than he could ever have on his own.

-0-

It was well pas midnight when Sophia and Cullen left the tavern and made their way together through the empty streets of Kirkwall. Hawke's hand was tucked neatly into the crook of the templar's arm as the two of them talked quietly. Every so often, Sophia would glance up at the handsome redhead. It was clear to her now that Varric and Aveline were correct in their assumptions that he had feelings for her; she could see it in the shy affectionate looks he would send her way whenever he believed she wasn't looking. She was a bit unsure, however, as to how exactly to approach their relationship. Very early on in their friendship, it had become clear to her that Cullen hadn't had a lot of experience in relationships, not that she had been in a ton of relationships herself, but she was sure she had more experience than he did. So, except for the impromptu kiss at the Sleeping Dragon, Sophia decided to let Cullen set the pace for their developing relationship relationship, and the pace that he set was walking arm in arm and the occasional kiss on the cheek or forehead.

She wasn't frustrated by the slow pace Cullen was setting, though. It was actually nice to be able to take a relationship slowly for a change. Her last tryst with Fenris had been a fast and emotional affair, but that was all it was, though there was a long angst-filled build up, all it was was a passionate emotional night then nothing. Unlike Cullen, Fenris wasn't even the least bit affectionate until their brief. Perhaps the slow pace of this relationship would mean that it had a bit more staying power, but that didn't mean she wasn't eager to kiss him again.

In fact, she was very eager to kiss him again. Just standing beside him, she could still imagine being back in the Sleeping Dragon, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him again. In fact that memory was never really far from her mind. For someone who had never really been in a relationship before, Cullen was an amazing kisser. He had been passionate, tender, and affectionate, but best of all, he was powerful. The memory of his strong, powerful arms wrapped around her was never far from her mind. It had been a long time since she had felt so safe and secure, and it didn't take her long to realize that she was beginning to develop a major crush on the templar.

"Hawke," Cullen said, jarring her from her thoughts. She was grateful that she was standing in a shadow because she was sure she had been blushing a bit just thinking about Cullen. "I have something that I've been meaning to give you for a while. I had it made for you as a thank you for helping me out with that mage girl, but I kind of forgot to give it to you."

"Oh, Cullen, you didn't have to give me anything, " Sophia said, taking the package from the templar's hands.

"It was the least I could do, especially after you got hurt because you were helping me out and everything." He smiled at her as she sat down on one of the benches in front of her door to open the package. His breath caught as she pulled the bracers from their wrappings and held the up to the light to look at them.

"Cullen, these are gorgeous. Are they drake-skin and is that my family crest? Did you have these made for me?"

Cullen nodded, pleased that she seemed so excited with the gift. "And look," he said, sitting down beside her and turning the bracers over again in her hands. "This rune is designed to help sharpen your senses and improve agility, not that you need any help with that. I got one of the mages to do the inlay."

Sophia threw her arms around his neck and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "I love them; thank you Cullen."

"Wait, I haven't even showed you the best part." Sophia shivered slightly when he took her arm to slip one of the bracers on, trying hard to keep a blush from coloring her cheek as he smiled down at her. Maker, what was her problem; she was acting like some shy, inexperienced waif at the merest touch. Maybe Cullen's innocence was rubbing off on her a bit.

"Okay, do you see that little button on the side just beneath the thumb?" Cullen asked once the bracer was secure. Sophia nodded, cocking her head to inspect the new piece of armor. "Watch what happens when you press it."

Sophia did and jumped slightly when a small dagger, just a bit longer than her fingers, shot out of the top of the bracer. "Oh, that is cool," she said, moving her wrist around to look at the small blade.

"It wouldn't be your primary dagger or anything, but it would be helpful if you found yourself in another tough situation and needed to stab something quickly."

Sophia laughed quietly. "It's perfect, thank you Cullen, really. I love it."

"I'm glad you like it, and I hope you like it enough to do another favor for me," he said, suddenly becoming a bit nervous. Sophia grinned slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck with his powerful hand. Boy, was he cute when he got nervous.

"Another favor, huh? Well, last time I did you a favor, I ended up being stabbed in the back by the enraged boyfriend of a newly discovered mage," she said, nudging him with a grin. "It's not that kind of favor is it?"

"Definitely not, though you may want to stab me when you hear this."

"Oh, now I'm intrigued. Do you want to take these back until you've asked me?" she asked, holding up the bracers with a laugh. "Kidding, but I can't help but wonder what kind of request would make me want to stab you."

Cullen sighed, "Well, you see, there's this ball coming up, the Viscount's Ball, and Meredith has been told that someone must attend to represent the Templar Order of Kirkwall. She hates things like this, so she all but ordered me to go. The thing is, I kind of need a date, s I was wondering if you would like to join me. I know it will be full of those stuffy nobles that you hate to be around, and you'd have to wear a dress, and if you can't or don't want to, I can always take one of the other templars, we do have few women in the order now, though I don't know them all that well, and…"

"Cullen," she said, putting a hand on his arm and cutting off his nervous rambling, "I'd love to go to the ball with you."

Cullen gave a sigh of relief and smiled down at her. "Really? You wouldn't mind? I'm not putting you out, right?"

"No, of course not; I think we'd have a great time together. You know I only complain about putting up with nobles because they're foul and all they are doing most of the time is trying to bed me, but I know that they won't try anything with you around to run them off."

She noticed his face go a bit red for a moment, but she ignored it. "Thank you, Hawke, I appreciate it so much. When Meredith told me that she needed me to go, I really wasn't looking forward to it, and then I realized I could ask you, but I was kind of afraid about putting you out, so…"

"Cullen, breathe; I told you that I'd love to go. Don't worry so much. Did you really think I'd say no?" Cullen nodded slyly, eliciting a soft laugh from her. "You realize that you've just invited me to the biggest, most exclusive social events of the year." Sophia smiled up at him. "And even if it wasn't, I'd still go because it means I would get to spend time with you, even if it means wearing a dress."

"You do realize that you'll have to wear one that is in one piece, right, not the last dress I saw you in. Maybe with me you can make it home with it all intact."

Sophia laughed, "Yeah, I'll try, as long as you don't let any bandits get the jump on us. Besides, I thought that would be your job, right? Making sure I make it home in perfect condition? You would be the first man to take me out who is capable of doing that, you know. You know my mother is going to have a field day picking a new one out. You've just made her week, believe me."

"Good, I'm glad, and I promise, no psychotic boyfriends with knives."

"And even if there are, I'll have my big knight in shining armor there to protect me."

Cullen smiled pulling her into a hug and leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Sophia was tempted to, at the last second, turn her face so that his lips would meet hers, but she restrained herself, though it pained her greatly, intent on letting him make the next move. He pulled back to look at her, but didn't drop his arms from around her. "I'll write to you so that we can work out the details. We have a group of templars who should be coming back in from patrols in the next few days, so I'm not sure if I'll be around much over the next few weeks."

Back from patrols, Sophia knew what that meant, new mages, most likely children and apostates. "Knight-Captain responsibilities?" Cullen nodded.

"I hope to see you before the ball, but I'm not sure when I'll be over again. Meredith will probably want me to stay in the Gallows for a while."

"That's understandable, I suppose." Sophia was quiet for a second. "Will Meredith be alright with you taking me; I mean I am the sister of a known apostate."

"Former, a former apostate, Bethany is a Circle mage now, a good one too."

"So taking me to a ball doesn't break any templar vows does it?"

Cullen shook his head. "Unless you're a closet mage and have been very good at hiding it for years, we're alright."

"That's good to know," Sophia said, glancing at the door over her shoulder. "Well, I'm sure my mother is up waiting for me, so I better turn in." She gave him another quick hug and received a kiss on the forehead in return. "Thank you for both the bracers and for inviting me to the Ball. You wouldn't…I mean would you like to come in for a quick drink?"

"I'd love to, really I would, but the Sisters always give me funny looks if I come into the Chantry too late. Good night Hawke."

-0-

Sophia, darling," Leandra said over breakfast a few mornings later, "we need to discuss the Viscount's ball."

"About that, Mother…"

"No, I know that balls and the like aren't exactly your cup of tea, but it is imperative that you attend. It is our first year living in Hightown, so we aren't well connected enough in our own right to receive an invitation in our own right. That means that in order to attend, you will need to attend as someone's companion. Unfortunately, you've managed to alienate a number of suitable suitors, so getting an invitation may prove difficult. I have spoken with a number of my friends, and there are a few young men who may still consider escorting you if you are on your best behavior."

"Mother, slow down. You don't' need to worry about that; I've already been invited to the Viscount's ball."

Leandra's face lit up with the news. "You have? Sophia, when did this happen?"

"A few nights ago. I wanted to surprise you," Hawke said. In truth, she wasn't sure how exactly she was going to tell her mother that Cullen had invited her. She liked Cullen well enough, but Leandra held a grudge against all templars on principle. On top of that, she had grown to have a particular dislike of Cullen personally. Sophia took a deep breath and tried to be as cheerful as possible. "I have a dress maker coming over this afternoon to help me to select an appropriate gown. I know we don't have time to have one made from scratch, but she can alter one in the next few weeks."

"Oh, Sophia, that's wonderful. So who was it that invited you? Was it that Van Galdwitz boy or perhaps the youngest Holslin, he's always looking so affectionately at you?"

Sophia nearly laughed; Holslin was a perverted prick. The only thing he ever looked at with affection was her tits. Steeling her nerves, Sophia looked her mother in the eye. "Actually it was Ser Cullen who asked me to attend."

Her mother's face dulled significantly. "Ser Cullen, as in Ser Cullen the templar who took your sister to the Gallows, that Ser Cullen?"

"The same."

"How did he manage to procure an invitation when we didn't?"

"He didn't, well, not him specifically; he's going as a representative of the templar order. They play an important role in the city, so it's appropriate that they have someone there to represent them."

"So not only are you going with the templar who stole your sister away; but you are also going as a representative of the entire group that is holding her? Sophia how could you?"

"Mother, please calm down. This isn't a political statement or anything. Cullen is a friend and he needed someone to accompany him to the ball."

"But you are a noblewoman, to go on the arm of a common soldier…"

"Please listen," Sophia said, trying quickly to figure out how to spin this so her mother would best accept it. Not that Leandra could bar her from attending, Sophia was head of the family, but it was still important to try to please her mother. It would be a lot more pleasant to live with a happy Leandra than a furious one.

"I knew that my attending the ball was important to you and that it would be unlikely that I would get an invitation from any of the noblemen I had met, so when Cullen asked, I realized that it may be my only invitation. I took it."

"I suppose you're right. I'm just afraid of how it will look, the scion of a noble house escorted by a soldier."

"Mother, I promise that I will use this as an opportunity to forge relationships with other noble families. You know I have some connections with some high ranking members of the Viscount's court who will no doubt speak to me at this ball, and you know that could help us too."

Leandra sighed loudly, but seemed to see Sophia's reason. "Besides, I'll let you pick out my dress." Leandra brightened suddenly at that thought. "And I promise that I'll even wear dainty shoes."

"No boots?"

"Nope, small dainty heels, no weapons, I'll even let Orana curl my hair."

Leandra was definitely glowing by this point. "Oh, Sophia, you'll look like a proper lady. You promise, you'll let me take care of all the details." Hawke nodded, a big smile on her face. "I promise to make you absolutely beautiful, and nothing too much, I promise. Oh Sophia, I'm so proud of you. Oh, there's so much to do, and only two weeks. Did you say that the dressmaker was coming today? Something in blue, definitely with shades of blue to bring out your eyes. And we'll need some eye tints to make your eyes pop. Oriana! Oriana, I need you. So much to do," she muttered, talking to herself and making lists in her mind as she bustled from the room.

Sophia smiled to her self and leaned back in her chair to finish her morning coffee. For the first time in her life, she was actually excited about the prospect of allowing her mother to doll her up in fine clothes. True, heels and dresses were a stark change from the leathers and armor she usually wore, and it was also true that she'd likely be completely uncomfortable for the entirety of the night. No, that part she was dreading, but what she was excited about was the prospect of Cullen seeing her looking like a true noblewoman. Leandra had her faults, but she definitely knew how to dress a woman up so that she looked stunning. All those years as the only daughter of a noble had to account for something.

Hopefully this ball may be the very thing Sophia needed to help encourage Cullen to take their relationship to the next level, and if she was lucky, she may even get a goodnight kiss for her efforts.

-0-

_Yeah, I know that the Cullen/Hawke relationship is moving a bit slowly, but believe me, I do have a plan. This next chapter should move their relationship forward by leaps and bounds. Just remember, Cullen is a bit innocent and inexperienced when it comes to relationships, and Sophia is far too cautious to allow herself to get pulled into another quick love affair. It's been a while since I've done anything from Fenris' point of view, so I wanted to make sure you all didn't forget about him._

_Anyway, I hope that you all enjoyed this one. Let me know what you think; your reviews really make my day! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and added._


	14. Belle of the Ball

_AN: I hardly ever do these at the beginning, but this chapter is going to switch between Sophia and Cullen's POVs frequently._

The evening of the Viscount's ball Sophia found herself spinning around in front of the full-length mirror in her bed room admiring her mother's handiwork. Admittedly, she felt a little funny twirling around and looking at herself in the gown, behaving like any other silly girl, and although such behavior was completely out of character for the tomboyish rogue, she simply couldn't help herself. Her mother, regardless of how frustrating and overbearing she could be at times, really knew her stuff when it came to fashion and clothes. The transformation was so drastic that she had a hard time believing that the woman in the mirror was truly her. Her mother and Oriana had spent the afternoon curling and styling her hair, leaving her bangs to sweep over her left eye while pinning half of her dark hair up in elaborate braids on the top of her hair, leaving the rest of the black curls to flow down her back. Leandra had also spent a good hour or so working on Sophia's makeup, tracing her eyes with a dark blue color that made her eyes pop dramatically. The rest of her make up was more subtle, drawing most of the attention to the rogue's bright eyes.

The dress, though, was Leandra's crowning achievement. Somehow, in the short two weeks she was given, Sophia's mother had managed to find a gown that matched Sophia's eyes perfectly and fit her like a glove. The vibrant blue dress was accented with elegant black lace and silver embroidery along the bodice of the dress, accentuating the rogue's narrow waist and surprisingly ample bust. Thanks to her constant physical activity, Sophia had always had a knock-out figure, but since everything was always hidden under and pushed down by her leather armor, it was easy for her to forget just how seductive she could look. This dress managed to emphasize everything in a very attractive way without making her hang out there like Isabella.

Though the look of the front was stunning, it wasn't her favorite part of the dress. She absolutely adored the way the dress's narrow sleeves rested just off her shoulders, showcasing her well-toned arms and back and the way the back of the dress cascaded before in elegant waves to pool on the floor at her feet. Full-length black gloves completed the entire ensemble, though Sophia felt they detracted from the overall look. Leandra insisted, though, insisted that Sophia's hands were beyond help. "I'm afraid that there's absolutely no way to make those sword-worn hands look delicate and feminine," she said in exasperation. "Maybe if I had three weeks to soak them, but you simply won't hold still for that long." Sophia wanted to point out that she used daggers, not swords, but wasn't about to stir up her mother's ire, so she let it pass and wore the gloves.

Sophia cocked her head to look at herself once again. Even though her overall look was quite elegant and undeniably feminine, Sophia was still rather nervous about how Cullen would react to it. After all, this was a side of her the templar had never seen; hell, it was a side of her no one had ever seen. What if this overly feminine look was a turn off for the warrior who had before only seen her in armor and casual clothes? She was afraid that it was too much. It looked like she was trying too hard.

The sound of the door opening downstairs pulled her from her doubts. Taking a deep breath and pushing down the nerves that were starting to manifest in her stomach, Sophia looked at herself one more time. Nerves or no, there was nothing she could do about it now; she just hoped that if Cullen didn't like it that he could look past the lace and ribbons to see her.

-0-

Cullen shifted uncomfortably as he exchanged awkward pleasantries with Sophia's mother who seemed content to offer him snappy, cold answers to his inquiries. After a few minutes of failed attempts, he decided that talking to the dog would probably be more beneficial, but not wanting to insult Leandra, decided to watch the fire instead. He would be lying it he said that he wasn't completely nervous about tonight. This would be the first time he in his life when had ever been on an actual date, and he was a bit unsure what exactly he was expecting. The last two weeks had been absolutely nerve-wracking for the templar. Several of the new mages were having a difficult time adjusting to life in the Circle, so he had been stuck dealing with all manner of problems in the Gallows and hadn't made it into the city to see Sophia since he invited her to the ball. They had exchanged brief letters, but the lack of real contact was making him begin to seriously second-guess himself. Yes, they had been spending more time together lately, and she had been very receptive to their brief moments of physical contact and there was that kiss, but he was still unsure as to where things were heading between the two of them. He knew where he hoped they were headed, but it was all so new to him that he couldn't be sure as to where Sophia stood. A part of him hoped tonight might clear some things up for him, maybe ease his nerves a bit, and the pressure of that was starting to weigh on him.

"Ah, Sophia, dear," Leandra said as she walked over to the stairs to meet her daughter. Cullen took a deep breath and turned to greet Hawke. The moment he saw her, his heart immediately began drumming frantically in his chest as he watched her float down the stairs. He had always found her beautiful, but seeing her like this, she was the single most stunning creature he had ever seen. Her hair, her dress, it was all gorgeous. Despite his stoic templar training and discipline, he found himself smiling broadly as he moved to the foot of the stairs to greet her.

"Ser Cullen," she said, and he could hear the nerves in her voice as she greeted him. What in Thedas did she have to be nervous about? If anything, he should be the one who was nervous. How did he end up escorting such a beautiful woman to the biggest social event of the year?

"Lady Hawke," he said, taking her hand and planting a kiss on her glove-covered hand. "You look stunning tonight."

He could see the relief on her face at his complement. "Thank you," she said with a slight smile before turning to Leandra. "Mother, I will see you in the morning. Thank you for your help."

Leandra kissed her daughter on the cheek, "Do me proud, girl. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Shall we go?" Sophia asked turning back to Cullen. The templar smiled, offering her his arm as he led her out into the warm evening air. "I wanted to thank you again, Cullen, for asking me to accompany you tonight."

Cullen huffed softly, "I should be thanking you, Hawke. I'll be the envy of all of the single men there tonight, probably some of the married ones, too."

"I doubt it, but thank you for the complement. If anything, you'll probably have the sympathy of some of the men. Remember I've managed to alienate most of the single male population in Kirkwall, well at least the ones my mother has managed to set me up with. I doubt stuffing me into a fancy dress will change many opinions."

"I don't know, in that dress, I think you'll change plenty of minds." Sophia shot him a questioning glance. "I'm serious, you're stunning tonight, but don't worry, Hawke, I'll make sure they keep their hands to themselves."

"Ah, Cullen, you'll always be my hero," she said softly, leaning into his shoulder. "Do you think you could do me a favor?" she asked, glancing up at him. "Do you think instead of Hawke, you could call me Sophia? I mean, if you're uncomfortable with that, Hawke is fine. I just thought that since we were kinda on a date that Hawke was a bit too formal." She looked down briefly. "Sometimes, I just miss hearing my name. My mother is the only person who calls me Sophia anymore."

Cullen smiled, feeling slightly warm inside at her request. "I'd be honored."

Sophia giggled softly beside him. "It's not really an honor, Cullen. I've always called you by your first name; I just thought it'd be appropriate for you to do the same."

"Fair enough, Sophia," he said, loving the way her name sounded on his tongue. "So if you miss your name so much, why don't you have your friends use it?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. I guess Varric and everyone, they all kind of started out as business associates more so than friends. You remember what I was like those first few years I lived here. I was so focused on getting my family out of Lowtown that I didn't really care about cultivating friendships. They just sort of happened, and by that time, all my friends were calling me Hawke. I guess it sort of stuck."

"So why the change with me?" Cullen blurted out before he realized that he had unwittingly in a roundabout way just asked her to define their relationship.

Sophia glanced up at him and grinned. "Well, you're the first man to take me to a ball, so I guess you get to call me Sophia."

"Sounds fair enough." Cullen glanced up at the imposing gates of Viscount's Keep. "I have to admit, Sophia, I really don't know what to expect here except for the brief explanation Meredith gave me. This is the first time she has never asked me to do something like this, and I wasn't exactly raised by nobility."

"Neither was I, but Mother was, and she went to several of these things in her youth. Apparently, the evening will begin with a meal where we'll probably be seated with Aveline and her head guardsmen."

"I guess that makes sense, putting the two groups of warriors together."

Sophia nodded, "It's so you don't get bored listening to nobles whine about their servants or brag about their newest shipment of Orlesian silk, and we don't disgust them by talking about disembowelments at the dinner table." Cullen chuckled at her imagery. "After that, we watch the Viscount and his consort open the ball with a couple of dances."

"Dancing, yeah, Hawke…"

"Sophia."

"Right, Sophia, about that, Meredith made it very clear to me that I am a warrior, not an Orlesian bard and that I was to keep my dancing to a minimum and only with you."

Sophia nodded, "I understand completely. There's something else you need to be aware of, though, something my mother made me very aware of before coming tonight." Sophia sighed and took a deep breath. "Since I am an unmarried noblewoman, I will be expected to dance with other men when asked. It's a way of making connections and showing friendship between noble families. In a way, this is as much business tonight as it is social. Although, like I said, a lot of the men are intimidated by me, so that likely won't be too much of a problem."

Cullen glanced down at the woman on his arm. "Right," he thought to himself, "I seriously doubt that." He had a feeling that his date would be beating off other men with the broad side of his sword all night. Well, he would have been if Meredith had let him wear his sword with his ceremonial armor.

-0-

"Ser Cullen, Knight Captain of the Holy Order of the Templars Knights of Kirkwall accompanied by Lady Sophia Amell Hawke, Scion of the Noble House of Amell."

Sophia grinned up at Cullen as a servant walked them to their seats after the herald announced them. "Your title is quite a mouthful, Ser templar, quite impressive. You know the longer what they say, the title, the more important you are."

"Nah, it's just the more important you think you are." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I think most of these people probably just made stuff up."

Sophia stifled a giggle as she glanced around her. She could feel the eyes of the other nobles on her the moment she entered the ballroom after the herald shouted her name. Her mother had informed her this afternoon that there hadn't been an Amell attend the Viscount's ball since her grandparents passed away nearly twenty years ago. Leandra had reconnected with the family's closest allies, but there were still many members of the nobility who had yet to realize they were back in Hightown, and those that did weren't happy about their change of fortune. This was an important moment for her family to establish new and reforge old connections, and for the first time, Sophia could feel the weight of her family name on her as she made her way to her seat at the table where Aveline was already seated.

"Good evening, Hawke, Cullen," the Guard Captain said with a knowing smile as she stood up to shake hands with the pair. "I'm quite happy to see the two of you here. I was afraid that I would end up sitting with some insufferable noble making small talk for the majority of the night."

"I know how you feel," Cullen said as he pulled the chair out for Hawke. "I was worried about the same thing. It's nice to see a familiar face."

Aveline nodded in agreement before turning to her friend. "Oh, Hawke, before I forget, did you get a chance to look into that situation with Emeric yet?"

"Emeric," Cullen said in surprise. "Is he still pestering you? Maker's breath, I thought Meredith put a stop to that weeks ago."

"She did, for the most part, but his claims still warranted a second look. After all, his investigation did lead to the discovery of human remains and some evidence of blood magic a few years ago. Since Hawke was already familiar with the situation, I asked her to look into it." Aveline turned to glance at Sophia. "So, did your get a chance to follow up on anything?"

Sophia nodded, "Fenris and I spoke with Emeric yesterday in the Gallows." She shot a quick glance toward Cullen. "I asked one of the recruits about you, but he said you were dealing with a situation. I didn't press it; I knew you'd been really busy and we were a bit pressed for time."

"No problem. So did he have any leads?"

"Actually, he did. He mentioned a nobleman named Gascard DuPuis who has an estate near where Fenris lives. We took Isabella with us to check it out and maybe ask Gascard a few questions." Sophia sighed and took a long drink from the goblet in front of her. "I'm not sure if he was behind the murders, but there was definite evidence of blood magic in the house. We were attacked almost immediately by a few shades and demons."

"Why didn't you bring him in, then?" Cullen asked.

"Because I killed him. When we found him, he was holding a young woman hostage. He claimed that he was using the woman as bait for the actual killer who, according to him, had murdered his sister some time ago. He also admitted to resorting to blood magic to try to find this guy."

"But you didn't believe him?"

Sophia sighed, "I'm not sure about the murders, but it was clear that he was a blood mage, there's no denying that. We were attacked by demons the moment we entered the house; there's no excuse for that. We were going to take him in, but he put up a fight and attacked us. Killing him was a last resort."

"And as always, things don't end well for people who choose to fight you," Aveline pointed out. "Why didn't you inform me of this yesterday?"

"It was rather late last night by the time we managed to clear out the house completely and collect the evidence, so we didn't get a chance to stop by the Keep to talk to you. As for today, Mother basically locked me in the house to prepare for this; besides, I knew I'd be seeing you tonight so it wasn't a pressing matter. I'll swing by the Gallows sometime tomorrow to explain to Emeric what happened."

"But you don't think he was the murder, do you?" Aveline asked.

Sophia sighed, "I can't be completely sure, but no. I mean, he had a woman there, but he hadn't killed her, yet. And from what we found a few years ago, the murder didn't kill the women in his home; he would lure them away. Remember, he'd send them flowers and everything."

"So you think that the murder is still out there, then," Cullen noted.

Sophia nodded. "Unfortunately, yes, but I don't have any idea where else to look. Varric is looking through the papers we found in the house, but we'll see if it leads anywhere. In the mean time, Aveline, it might be a good idea to issue some kind of alert, especially in Hightown."

"Based on what, Hawke? You caught a blood mage who had an abducted woman in his home, did you not? Who's to say you've not stopped him already? You just said that you weren't sure that he was innocent."

"I don't know, Aveline. It's just a feeling I have; call it a hunch, but I know that the murderer is still out there. I can feel it in my gut."

"Well, I'm sorry Hawke, but I can't put all of Hightown in a panic based on your gut feeling. I know you usually have a nose for these kind of things, but I have to be careful about this." Sophia sighed softly, shaking her head at her friend. "I'll tell you what, I'll increase the patrols in Hightown."

"I guess that's a start."

"I'll check with Emeric to see if there's anything else he might know," Cullen added as a servant brought out the first course, earning a soft smile from Sophia.

After that, the small bit of tension passed, and the group fell into easy, lighter conversation, the disagreement over Emeric's murder temporarily forgotten. Dinner was surpassingly good, though Sophia wasn't able to eat that much thanks to the tight corset her mother had put her in. After dinner, the Viscount and his family led the entire company into the ballroom where the Viscount and his consort began opened the ball with a graceful waltz. Sophia stood watching the dance, very aware of the fidgeting templar next to her.

Reaching out and taking his arm, she cocked her head up to look at him. "Nervous, Cullen?"

The templar blushed. "Slightly. You do realize that I have very limited dance skills, right? Teaching us how to dance was a little low on the priority list of the Chantry Sisters. I just don't want to make a fool of myself and you."

Sophia laughed as she rested a hand on the templar's arm. "You won't make a fool of yourself, Cullen; the only people who make fools of themselves are so drunk that they can't walk in a straight line. So don't worry about it. The first couple of dances will be waltzes and those are relatively simple. Just listen to the music and do what comes naturally. Dancing can be a lot like dueling, moving in sync with your partner to the music, and I happen to know you move very well. Just focus on me, and you'll be fine."

Cullen took a deep breath as the couples around them began to move out to the dance floor. "Alright, my lady, I place my trust in you. I'm not sure why I'm worried; as long as I'm dancing with you, all eyes will be on you, no one will even notice me."

Sophia blushed slightly at the compliment as everyone moved to join the royal couple. Taking her into his arms, Cullen began to lead her gracefully around the dance floor, moving with grace and precision. Sophia couldn't help but smile at the templar. She had no idea what he had been concerned about; he was a natural dancer, never once stepping on her toes or missing a step. She found herself lost in the dance, staring up into Cullen's warm brown eyes as his strong arms guided her around the room, wishing for a less formal dance so that they could close the distance between them. All too soon, the final notes of the song died out.

"See," Sophia said, smiling up at him, "nothing to worry about."

"It was all about the partner, I'm quite sure," Cullen responded as he led Sophia to the edge of the dance floor, his hand resting comfortably on the small of her back. Before they reached the edge, however, Seneschal Bran intercepted them.

"Excuse me, Knight Captain, but I was wondering if I might cut in for a moment," he said, a strained kind of smile of his face. Sophia was slightly taken aback. Why would Bran want to dance with her? Based on their brief interactions in the past, she had always gotten the impression that the Viscount's right hand man despised her. After they exchanged brief pleasantries for a bit, she mentioned that fact to him.

"Don't read too much into this Messere. This is merely saving me the trouble of summoning a messenger to find you tomorrow. Even though you're moving up in the world, I still find it quite difficult to merge the image I have of you as the mercenary who took out the Winters for a few gold pieces with the image of a noblewoman you seem to have shaped yourself into. Regardless, I do not believe that you belong here, fancy dress or no."

Sophia had to fight to keep a scow off her face as the seneschal continued. "However, it seems that for some reason you've made an impression on the Viscount. He has not forgotten your service a few years back and has need of your aid once again. He would like to meet with you tomorrow."

"The Viscount has asked for me, by name," Sophia said, astonished.

Bryan sighed. "Yes, it seems that you have made an impression on several rather important people. The Arishock, who has for the past three years more or less ignored everyone we have sent to him, has asked to see you."

Sophia's eyes widened in surprise. "Now that is news. As far as I knew, the Arishock never even bothered to learn my name. I did him a small favor that seemed to impress him three years ago, but I've not spoken to him or had dealings with him in years."

"Well, I suppose he's learned your name since you seem to be the only human he deems worthy of even speaking to. The Viscount is concerned, to say the least, that the qunari have ended their three year silence. He would like the situation dealt with quickly."

"Of course,"Sophia said, shaking her head. "I'll do whatever my Viscount needs of me."

"That is good to know, Hawke. For all our sakes, I hope that this can be dealt with as quickly and painlessly as possible," Bryan said as the song ended. "And I would appreciate your discretion. It would not be good if those in the city realized that the qunari have started making demands."

"I won't tell my mother, don't worry."

Bryan huffed softly as he dropped his arms. "Well, that's good to hear," he snarked before turning and walking away.

Shaking her head slightly, Sophia turned around to look for Cullen. She spotted him and Aveline standing together across the room, clearly engaged in what looked like a deep conversation, though they were probably only talking about swords and plate armor. Before she could cross the room to join them, however, she heard someone called her name.

"Saemus,"she said dropping in a small curtsey as the Viscount's son approached her. "It's been a while, Your Grace."

"That it has, Lady Hawke,"Saemus answered with a nod of his head. "I would be honored if you would grace me with a dance."

Sophia blinked back her surprise. The Viscount's son had come alone to the ball and so far had spoken to no one besides his parents or Bran. Her mother would keel over when she heard about this from her gossiping friends. "Of course, Your Grace" she answered quickly, offering her hand to the prince.

Saemus laughed good-naturedly as he took her waist, leading her around the floor. "And let's drop this Your Grace stuff. You saved my life three years ago; I think that earns you the right to address me by name."

"Only if you extend me the same courtesy."

"It's a deal, then,"he said softly. "I am glad to see the years have been kind to you since we last met. I know your first few years here in our city were difficult. I'm sure Kirkwall is nothing like Ferelden, but you seem too have adjusted quite well. Hightown clearly suits you."

"Thank you, it's been quite an adjustment. We've been up here for nearly two years, and I still feel like I stick out like a sore thumb most of the time."

"Not at all. You only feel that way because you've had nearly every eye in the place on you most of the night. The reemergence of the Amell family; it's a momentous occasion. Speaking of which, where is your mother and why is it that you were seated with the guards and soldiers not with the lower nobles?"

Sophia laughed, "My mother and I didn't receive our own invitation. Ser Cullen of the templar order is a friend of mine, and he asked me to accompany him."

"What?" Saemus barked, shaking his head in disgust. "Father's seneschal was in charge of the final guest list; I'll have to have a word with him about that."

"Well, that makes sense then," Sophia mused. "Bran despises me on principal."

"That doesn't change the fact that you belong here, and not just because you worked your way up from the slums. This is your birthright. Had you been born in Kirkwall, you would have grown up in Hightown. Your family has been here for centuries; don't ever doubt yourself."

"Thank you, Saemus; that means a lot," Sophia said, smiling up at him. "So, how have things been with you? Are you still spending time studying the qunari?"

Saemus sighed lightly. "Not as much as I would like, honestly. My father has been concerned about my appearing to be too friendly with the qunari, so he has insisted that I distance myself." The young man sighed slightly. "My interest in the Qunari has become a bone of contention between us that I have come to simply ignore. My father is as tired of being disappointed as I am bearing it, so we simply don't talk about it any more."

"But your feelings about the Qunari haven't changed?"

Saemus cocked his head slightly and looked down at her. "In all honesty, no. If anything, I find them more fascinating than ever. It's a freeing idea, being a part of something bigger than yourself."

"Freeing?" Sophia exclaimed, looking up at the prince. "Are we talking about the same Qun? From my limited experience with the Qunari, they seem anything but free; they seem completely bound by the limitations their religion places on them."

"It's not a religion, Hawke; it's so much more. It's a life free of burden. You behave as you are compelled to behave, live according to your nature."

"According to your assignment," Sophia pointed. "To live without choice."

"But that's where you're wrong. We have a choice."

"To live according to the Qun or to die, and that is a quote from the Arishock himself. Look around, Saemus; there are defects, tal-vashoth, all over our coast line. Would a religion that's freeing have so many who are running away?"

"Those tal-vashoth have forgotten the way of the Qun because they have been so long removed from Par Vollen, but still they have been given a choice," Saemus pointed out. "A choice that I would relish."

Sophia shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean? You can have anything you want; you're the Viscount's son for crying out loud."

Seamus let out a bark of laughter. "And you think that makes me free in any way, shape form or fashion. Wake up, Hawke. None of us are free. I am bound by the burdens of my position more than anyone else here, but through the Qun, I would be free from that."

Understanding suddenly dawned on Sophia. "You don't want to succeed your father, do you? You don't want to become the next Viscount."

The dark-haired nobleman sighed. "I want to live free of my father's expectations. I will never be the son he expects me to be no matter how hard he pushes. I can never be the leader this city needs. You see what's coming. The tension between the mages and the Chantry will only get worse, and who will have to deal with it? Me, and if I make a bad decision, thousands may die. I can't live with that kind of pressure."

"So you think running away and joining the qunari is the answer?" Sophia gasped. "That's what you're planning, isn't it. You're going to abandon your title and devote yourself to the Qun. Oh, Saemus!"

"I'm not running away; I'm simply choosing to live the kind of life I want to live, not the kind of life I've been forced into." The Viscount's son looked down at her. "I thought you of all people would understand. You have formed a life for yourself of your choosing. You haven't listened to anyone's expectations or plans for you, but you did what you felt was best. I admire that."

"You think I'm free of expectations and duty?" Hawke asked, breathlessly. "I had a duty to my mother to get her out of the slums of Darktown, a duty to the memory of my father and my brother to protect and provide for her; I didn't abandon that duty when the pressure became too great. I embraced it, used it to push me forward." Sophia sighed. "Look, Saemus, I can see that this is bothering you greatly, but you wouldn't be doing this alone. You would have advisors, assistants, nobles all here to help you make the difficult decisions. Saemus, just promise me something. Promise me that you won't make any hasty decisions here without talking to someone first. Would you do that for me?"

"I suppose, though I doubt that much will change." Saemus smiled down at her. "Well, I've taken enough of your time, and I'm sure your escort is eager to get his lovely date back."

"Saemus, whatever you do, please be careful. Though you may not see it, these Qunari are dangerous, and this entire situation is volatile. I'm afraid that your involvement with the Qunari will only make the situation worse."

"I can only follow what my conscience dictates, Sophia."

Sophia glanced back up at him, "Just make sure it's your conscience making the decisions and not your unease with the thought of leading the city, but I go too far, I'm afraid. It is your decision to make; I just ask that you think long and hard about your actions."

"I will, Hawke, and thank you for the dance," he said, lightly kissing her hand. "You look quite lovely tonight. As I said earlier, nobility suits you." The young noble glanced up at Cullen who was approaching them. "I leave you to your escort, my Lady. It was a pleasure."

"Thank you, your Grace," Sophia said softly before turning back to her date.

"Well, that was interesting," Cullen said, putting a hand on the small of her back to lead her over to where Aveline was waiting for them.

"I'd say," the guard captain said. "Getting asked to dance by both the Viscount's seneschal and his son, you don't have to do much more to get people talking about you. You'll be the talk of the town at every tea party for the next month."

"Oh, I don't think so," Sophia huffed, waving her hand casually. "It wasn't that big a deal."

"But it was," Aveline corrected her. "Saemus never dances with anyone. He usually avoids these gatherings like the Blight, and Bran won't deem to speak to someone unless he feels they are worthy. To dance with both of them, it's a rather impressive feat. You have piqued everyone's attention tonight."

Sophia chucked lightly. "Bran just wanted to inform me that the Viscount has important business with me, and Saemus wanted to talk about the qunari. It was nothing special, really."

"But it looked special," Cullen pointed out, "and that's what's important at these things. You are now the most interesting and attractive woman at the ball." Cullen wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. "Not that I didn't already know that; it's just nice to see that everyone else appreciates you as well." Sophia felt her cheeks redden a bit as she looked up at him.

"So you're not upset that I had to dance with Saemus?"

"Upset, no; now if you had decided to run off with him, then we may have had some problems. One dance, however, I suppose I can handle," the templar teased. "Now, Aveline tells me that the Viscount's gardens are open tonight to allow guests to visit. Apparently this is a rather rare occurrence that we should take advantage of. What do you say? Care to take a stroll with me around the private royal gardens."

"I'd love to," Sophia said with a smile. Grinning brightly, Cullen took her arm and lead her toward the gardens. She was so fixated on the handsome templar that she completely missed the smug, knowing smile that Aveline sported as she watched the two of them walk away.

-0-

_Okay, so I didn't quite get to the romance portion of the night, but there were a few key plot points that needed to be covered first. Romance next time, I promise! Review and let me know what you think!_


	15. A Change in Perspective

Cullen stood at the edge of the room, leaning against the wall as watched Bran move Sophia gracefully around the dance floor. If he didn't know Hawke and her mannerisms as well as he did, he might have thought that she was enjoying herself considering how gracefully she was moving, but after enough evenings spent watching her deal with the usual drunken patrons in the Hanged Man, he knew her fake smile when he saw it. She was clearly not happy about whatever it was Bran was leaning in to say to her, and he could see her annoyance growing with every moment. Seeing her irritation growing, it took everything in him not to cross the room to take her away from the arrogant court official, but even he knew that taking a partner away from the Viscount's seneschal would be bad form. Instead, he was forced to grit his teeth as he watched as Bran led her around the dance floor, and he began to notice that he wasn't the only one watching either. Around the room, several pairs of eyes followed the couple with great interest, whispering hushed questions and snide remarks as they moved past.

"She's can't help but catch everyone's eye, can she," Aveline said as she stepped up beside him. "Of course, Hawke always tends to make a bit of a scene wherever she goes, and the funny thing is, she never means to either. I actually think she'd be happier staying in the background for the most part. For better or worse, though, it's just her nature to draw everyone's eye. She's been that way since the first time I saw her."

Cullen sighed audibly, "Yeah, I suppose you're right. That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

Aveline glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure she's quite miserable right now. She and Bran have never really been on good terms with one another. He's been complaining about her for a year now, so I'm sure this is nothing to worry about."

"Huh, oh, yeah, I know. It's clear she doesn't like him; I just don't like how everyone else is looking at her, that's all. It's like they're a pack of ravenous wolves preparing to attack."

Aveline smiled, nodding slightly. "They're nobles, it's what they do; they like to size up their prey and play with it before they pounce. Don't worry about Hawke, though; she can hold her own. I don't see her letting herself get pushed around by a bunch of stuffed-shirt milk drinkers any time soon. They'll just annoy her more than anything."

"I guess you're right," Cullen acquiesced with a sigh. "I mean who would know better than you. You're her best friend, after all."

"Nah, Varric is her best friend. They are so alike sometimes that it's scary. I mean, sometimes, we will all be talking and they can just look at each other and start to laugh uncontrollably. They're both unfairly clever, and when the two of them combine efforts and put their minds to something, watch out." Aveline chuckled. "You know, there are times when I curse whatever deity brought those two together. That being said, though, that dwarf would follow her to the gates of the black city, and I'm pretty sure she'd do the same for him. As for me, I guess you could say that I'm her oldest friend, even though we've only known each other for the few years we've lived here."

"Really, but you two come over here from Ferelden together, didn't you?" Aveline nodded. "You mean you weren't friends back there?" Cullen mused. "I guess I just assumed that you fought together in the King's army."

Aveline shook her head as her eyes traveled back to Hawke. "I suppose that in a way we were, but Calian's army was quite large when the darkspawn began to threaten, and that was when Hawke and her brother joined up. I was an officer by that point, and she was just a young recruit during that final darkspawn attack when they overran us. Fortunately for us, we were both stationed in the rear-guard at Ostagar, but she wasn't in my company." Aveline chuckled softly. "You know, even as a grunt in the army, Hawke managed to draw everyone's eye. We never spoke in the camp, but I knew who she was, all the officers did. She made quite an impact on everyone, especially once that mabari of hers imprinted on her. Most of the men in the camp were either terrified by her or completely enamored by her. She didn't pay it any mind though; she just kept her head down and worked hard. She was a really good soldier; if we would have had a hundred of her, we would have probably saved the king." Aveline sighed. "No, Hawke and I didn't actually meet till well after the battle of Ostagar."

"Oh, I never realized; I always just assumed that you all went way back."

"I actually met up with Hawke and her family as my husband and I were trying to escape from Lothering."

Cullen's surprise got the better of him, and couldn't help from blurting out, "Husband?" She had been married? That was a surprise to him. Aveline had always seemed like such an independent woman; he honestly couldn't see her settling down and getting married.

Aveline smiled sadly, "I've never told you about my Wesley, have I? We met while I was in officer training in Denerim several years before the Blight. My father had worked hard to get me into Calian's service, so I was determined to be the best soldier I could be. It wasn't easy for me; even in Ferelden, being a woman in the army isn't the easiest line of work. Falling in love was never really an option for me, not until I met Wesley. He was a templar you know; he was stationed at the Denerim Chantry."

"I remember Wesley. Tall, red-headed man from Dragonsreach?" Aveline nodded. "We went through the last few years of our training together, but we were given different assignments. Gregor thought that he was better suited for civilian work than dealing with mages on a daily basis."

"It was a good assignment for him. Chantry work suited him; he always enjoyed working with and talking to the people who came to worship. Actually, that's how we met. I came to afternoon services after a particularly grueling training session, and we hit it off immediately. Over the next few months, we would spend time together every day, and slowly, our friendship began to develop into something more. Although, it took some convincing before we actually decided to take the relationship to the next level and get married."

"On his part?" Cullen asked, thinking about his own reservations about balancing a relationship with his templar vows.

"Actually, I was the one who took the most convincing; Wesley was convinced we were meant for each other from the very beginning. I was a bit unsure because I believed that getting married especially to a templar would hurt my career. I had worked so hard to get my superiors to see me as a soldier and not just a woman; I was convinced that getting married would only set me back in their minds."

"So his being a templar didn't make things difficult? Didn't he struggle between his duties as a husband and as a devotee of Andraste?"

"You would think it would have been difficult, but it wasn't. The Chantry doesn't forbid its knights from getting married, you know."

"Um, they don't?"

Aveline laughed. Don't you remember your vows?"

"Most of them, but I was only fourteen when I took my vows. Marriage was really the last thing on my mind, so I'm not completely sure what I promised. Besides, I was raised around fifty year old Chantry sisters, definitely not marriage material."

"Well, I guess Wesley paid more attention during his vows. He never had a problem with the idea of marriage; it never seemed to conflict with his duty to the Chantry and Andraste. He always believed that having a life outside the Chantry made him a better templar; that having me in his life grounded him and helped him to see things more clearly. He said that it was easy to get lost in the duties and routine of the Chantry so that you lose your connection to the rest of the world."

"So how did that work? Templars live in the Chantry, and our quarters aren't exactly private."

Aveline laughed softly. "I suppose when you serve in the Circle that's the case, but since he worked in the Denerim Chantry, we were able to rent a small apartment in the city where we would stay a few nights a week when we were both off duty. Occasionally he would leave for a few weeks to escort new mages to the Circle or I would leave on a mission for the army, but for the most part we had three blissful, uninterrupted years together. Then the Blight happened, and I was forced to travel with my unit to Ostagar."

"Did he go with you?"

"No, he stayed in Denerim and continued to work in the Chantry. He was headed to Redcliffe on an errand for the Grand Cleric when he heard about the army's defeat at Ostagar. That was the first time he allowed his personal life to interfere with his duties. He immediately turned south and headed to Lothering, hoping to find me among the refugees who were headed north. By some miracle, we were able to find each other among that mess, but by then, the darkspawn had advanced on the town and we were forced to flee. We had been fighting and running for three days when we came across Hawke and her family. Wesley had been injured in an attack earlier that day and was struggling just to stay on his feet, much less attack or defend himself. I thought we were done for when Hawke appeared out of thin air beside me, undercutting the darkspawn that was headed for Wesley before vanishing again to engage another creature."

"That sounds like how Hawke and I met, right place, right time, but always in the worst possible situation."

Aveline smiled and nodded. "She was a gift from Andraste at that moment. Once we defeated the darkspawn, we made a temporary peace and decided to travel with them despite Wesley's discomfort with Hawke's sister. I wasn't thrilled to be traveling with a mage, but if it would save us, I was willing to risk it. Little did I know it was already too late."

"What do you mean?"

"Wesley was already dead; we just didn't know it yet. He had been infected with the Blight sickness, and it was quickly consuming him." The guard captain glanced back over at her friend. "We both lost someone dear to us that day. Wesley was taken from me, and Carver was taken from Hawke." The guard captain sighed sadly before turning back to the templar. "I was devastated. My entire future was gone, and I was alone. That was when Hawke suggested that I travel with her. She offered to give me a place to stay once we got to Kirkwall."

"That was kind of her. I'm sure it was a tight fit there in her uncle's house."

"Well, at the time, Hawke believed that Gamlen was still a nobleman living in the Amell estate in Hightown. When we arrived and discovered that her uncle was broke, Hawke made an arrangement with a group of mercenaries to work our way into the city. I tried to join, but Hawke wouldn't hear of it. She knew that I would be uncomfortable working as a mercenary so she helped me find a position in the city guard."

"That's Hawke; always putting the needs of others over herself."

"Yes," Aveline said, "that is Hawke, and that's why I came to speak to you while she was busy schmoozing with Bran and Saemus."

"Saemus?" Cullen started and glanced over at his date. When he found her, his eyes narrowed slightly and a frown crossed his face. Sure enough, she was being led around the dance floor not by the Viscount's seneschal, but by the heir to the Viscount's Seat.

"Don't worry about him, either. I'm pretty sure he's gay," Aveline pointed out in an off-handed way. "But that's beside the point. I wanted to know what your intentions are with Hawke."

"My intentions?" Cullen stuttered. "Um, well, I'm not sure I've really thought about that to be honest. I mean, I have; I've thought about it a lot. It's just that this is the first time I've been in anything that has any semblance to a relationship, and I was raised in the Chantry, so I've never really been around a healthy adult relationship to see what it's supposed to look like. I'm not exactly sure where I'm hoping to take this."

Aveline smiled. "I figured as much. I see a lot of Wesley when I look at you. You both have the same passion, the same integrity, but in a lot of ways, you seem to be much more careful than he was. That was one thing about Wesley; he never let his templar discipline and vows get in the way of his personal life. Instead, he found a way to merge the two. Look, you like Hawke, that much is obvious, and I'm sure that if she wasn't so nervous about all this, she'd realize it as well.

"Nervous, since when is Hawke nervous about anything?"

"Since she got burned by the whole Fenris situation. She's not talked to us about it, but I wouldn't be surprised if it has made her very hesitant about being the one to pursue a relationship with anyone. Besides, she doesn't know enough about your duties and vows as a templar to know what is and is not acceptable; she wouldn't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. If you want to be with her, you are going to have to be open and honest with her, and you'll likely need to be the one to make the next move."

Cullen chuckled sardonically, "Well, then we're both in trouble because I was counting on her to take the lead cause I have no idea what I'm doing here." He glanced down at the Captain of the Guard. "You don't think she'd want to take the lead. I mean she seems to like to be the one in charge."

Aveline cocked her head and glanced over at her friend. "You know, I'm not sure how much Hawke wants to be in charge. She takes the lead because she must, because there's no one else to do it, but in all honesty, I think she'd welcome the chance to let someone else take the lead for once. As to what to do...well, honestly, I am not a lot of help there. Wesley courted me, not the other way around. My best advice there is just do what comes naturally." Aveline nudged him and nodded to where Hawke and Saemus' dance was coming to an end. "Oh, and by the way, the Viscount's private gardens are open tonight. If you lack inspiration, I'm sure you can find it there. Just a thought."

Taking a deep breath, Cullen crossed the dance floor to meet Sophia, a thousand thoughts swirling around in his head. She gave the Viscount's son a brief thank you as she turned to meet Cullen, her face lighting up at the sight of him. All around them, men were staring at Hawke, looking at her with a cool simmering, lustful glare. Though it was clear that the room was focused on her, Cullen suddenly realized that she only had eyes for him. It was in that moment that Cullen's confusion faded away and his purpose became perfectly clear.

He wanted her. His vows, his fears, his worries were suddenly no longer an obstacle for him. Cullen was filled with a new sense of resolve. Nodding to the Viscount's son, Cullen placed a possessive hand on the small of her back as he led her back to where Aveline was waiting for them. The two women chatted briefly while Cullen stood by, his hand making small circles on her back, contributing occasionally to the conversation.

After chatting for a few minutes, Cullen turned to look down at Sophia. "Now, Aveline tells me that the Viscount's gardens are open tonight to allow guests to visit. Apparently this is a rather rare occurrence that we should take advantage of. What do you say? Care to take a stroll with me around the private royal gardens."

"I'd love to," Sophia said with a brilliant smile. Cullen returned the smile and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as he led her out into the dark gardens.

Throughout the elaborate gardens, the pathways were lined with tall hedges and dimly lit by sconces holding pale blue mage lights. The swell of the orchestra faded into the background as the pair made their way deeper into the seclusion of the garden until the quiet chirping of crickets and the occasional warble of a nightingale were the only sounds they heard. As they walked into an elaborately decorated alcove, Sophia took a deep breath, looking around for a moment before crossing the alcove to look at a small cluster of delicate white flowers. Curious, Cullen moved over to see what she was looking at. "Potion reagents?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Sophia laughed quietly. "No, though I have seen some rather rare specimens in here, but nothing as good as the poison ingredients in my own personal garden." Cullen raised an eyebrow, causing Sophia to laugh. "Oh, come on, Cullen. I'm a rogue fighter. Do you think I often go into a fight without at least a dozen poisons on me at any given time?"

"I've seen you use things like that before; I just didn't know you brewed your own."

"I don't. Brewing poisons can be rather complicated, and I don't quite have the patience or precision for that," Sophia corrected. "I have a standing arrangement with an apothecary who works out of Darktown. I provide rare ingredients that I grow or find, and he supplies me with all the poisons I need at a great discount."

She reached out and gently touched the small white flowers. "This is Andraste's Grace, an Orleisan flower that can grow quite well in Kirkwall's environment; though I haven't been able to find any since we moved into the estate. I was hoping to plant some in the garden, but apparently it's gone out of style of late. My gardener hasn't been able to find any."

Cullen glanced down, looking at the small, nondescript flower. "It's a nice flower, I guess, but aren't there a lot of flowers out there that look a lot like that. I mean, it's just a plain white flower."

"I know, but when my mother was young, her mother always kept Andraste's Grace in the garden. When Mother moved to Ferelden, this was the only thing that she had to remind her of home. Every house we lived in had this plant growing in the garden during the summer. Mother would practically have to nurse the stuff out of the ground because Ferelden's weather was a bit too rough for a delicate flower like this." Sophia smiled down at the plant. "Every autumn, Bethany and Carver would be forced to dig up several planters full of this stuff so that Mother could keep it alive in the house until spring. It's a funny thing that an Orlesian plant can bring back such strong feelings of home."

"Do you miss Ferelden?" he asked her softly. "I mean, do you ever consider going back?"

"I think about it every day," she sighed sadly. "There are days I miss Ferelden so much that it's hard to breathe. I walk through the narrow streets of this city, and it feels like the walls are closing in on me. I miss the fresh clean air, the wide-open spaces, even the cold, harsh winters. I was never meant to live in the city, not like this." Sophia mused as she moved to the stone bench that was snuggly wedged in the corner of the alcove. Cullen followed, taking a seat beside her, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her close as she continued to talk. "Besides, moving back to Ferelden means I'd be giving up the notoriety I've gained up here. There's also something very appealing about becoming a nobody again."

"Really? I have to say, that kind of surprises me. You seem to be thriving here?"

"Thanks," she said softly. "It's just sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning in the middle of all this. It was a simpler life back there when my biggest problem was dealing with the wolves that were picking off a few sheep. There I didn't have to worry about the actions of Kings and Lords; whereas here, I find that I've garnered the attention of all the most powerful and dangerous people in the city: The Viscount, his son, his Seneschal, the carta, even the Arishok."

"The Arishok?"

Sophia sighed and snuggled into his side a bit more; his grip on her waist tightened a bit. "That's what Bran wanted to discuss with me. Apparently, the Arishok has asked for me by name. Apparently, I've made an impression on him, so now it looks like I'll be the ambassador or mediator between the Viscount and the Qunari, something I'm completely not qualified for."

"Why do you say that? You've impressed him otherwise he wouldn't have asked for you."

"But how does that make me qualified to mediate this situation? I don't have any political training, and what I've learned about Qunari culture, I've learned from dealing with them. What if I make a mistake? Thousands of lives could be at stake. I don't want that kind of pressure." She shook her head, looking up at the stars. "Just when things were calming down for me a bit, I get thrust back into the thick of thing."

"You could always go home. The blight is over, and I know that Ferelden is rebuilding quickly," Cullen said, the words almost catching in his throat. The thought of her returning to Ferelden was almost physically painful.

"No, this is home now; there would be nothing there for me to return to. I've finally gotten to a place here where I can take care of Mother, and would hate to uproot her again. Besides, her brother is here and so is Bethany; I don't think I could ask her to leave." She glanced up at Cullen, a small smile creeping across her face. "Besides, I have more reasons to stay than to go. I guess that smelling that flower made me a bit melancholy. What about you, do you ever think about going back?"

Cullen managed to repress a shudder at the thought. "No, I don't think I could ever return to Ferelden. My only real memory of that place is of the Circle, and my experience there didn't end well."

"Right, Uldred's rebellion." Sophia cocked her head and glanced up at him. "You've never really told me about what happened. Were you one of the templars to meet the Hero of Ferelden when she arrived?"

"Oh, I met her alright, but not when she arrived. I was trapped in some magical prison and was tormented by those mages for who knows how long. She and her companions actually freed me before they went up to face down Uldred."

"Oh, Cullen, I am so sorry; I had no idea."

"Well, like you said, I never really talk about it, but I just couldn't stay there. I was suspicious of every mage who survived the attack, seeing demons and abominations everywhere. I was convinced that we should annul the entire Circle."

"Annul the Circle. What do you mean?"

Cullen sighed. "The Right of Annulment is carried out when the Circle is broken and corrupted beyond repair, and the templars are forced to neutralize every mage living there."

"Oh," Sophia said quietly. "Does it happen often?"

"Almost never, and it requires approval from both the Knight Commander and the Grand Cleric. Don't take that to mean that I hated mages; I just didn't trust those who survived the rebellion. Gregor, the Knight Commander, decided a change of scenery was for the best. He was afraid that, had I stayed, I would become violent towards all mages." He sighed, running his hand down the exposed skin on her upper arm. "Moving here was the best thing for me. It helped me distance myself from the hate that was slowly creeping in. Though I still don't trust mages completely, and probably never will, I don't treat them with absolute distain."

"No, you don't," Sophia said softly. "That has always been clear to me just by observing how you treat the mages in the Circle. You're not as harsh as some of the other templars are."

"A strong hand is what created a problem with Uldred," Cullen stated frankly. "He had been raised in a harsher environment than the one we had in Ferelden. He grew to despise everything the templars stood for, and that's what led to his rebellion. We were a bit lax with the mages at Kinloch Hold and that gave Uldred the opening he needed."

"So you think Meredith is the answer?"

Cullen sighed. "I'm loath to speak ill of my commander, but she tries to strike a balance. She allows contact between mages and their families, something many commanders do not. However, at the same time, she demands a firm hand from us templars and that we maintain a professional distance from the mages. It makes it easier for us to do our job that way. She is a bit quick to tranquilize a mage, but it is better to have them tranquil and harmless than to deal with a full-blown abomination. As long as the mages stay in line and away from forbidden magics, then the Circle will remain in relative peace."

Sophia grew quiet and seemed to be struggling with herself a bit. After a moment, she turned to look up at him. "Does Bethany seem happy there?" she asked, her voice quiet.

Ah, there was the problem, the sister. In the months that they had spent together, she had never willingly spoken of the former apostate. He wondered vaguely what brought it up now. "Happy as she can be," Cullen admitted. "She is teaching some classes on healing with some of the younger apprentices and has made several friends over the past few years. But surely she's told you this already. I know she writes frequently."

"She does, but I can never tell through her letters. I have always been afraid that she feels that I'm responsible for what happened to her; that she resents me in some way."

"Is that why you never come with your mother when she visits the circle?"

Sophia stood up and walked across the alcove. "Initially, yes. I felt so guilty for letting it happen to her, like I let her down by not being there for her. I regret every day the decision I made to take Anders into the deep roads instead of her. I can't help but think that if I had taken her, then she would still be here, and everything would be alright. Mother would be happier; I would have less pressure on me."

Cullen got up and followed her, taking her in his arms and turning her around to face him. "Sophia, listen to me. If there is one thing I've learned over the years, it is this. Regret is a dangerous and corrosive thing. It is one thing to learn from your mistakes, but it is another to let yourself be completely consumed by them. That's what you are doing if you let regret linger. It will tear you apart if you will let it. Sophia, what happened to your sister was not your fault. She was an apostate who was actively using her magic while living in a city full of templars. Even now with all your money and connections, you don't have the influence to spare her from a life in the Circle once Meredith found out about her. You have nothing to be ashamed of here, and nothing to regret. There's no telling what would have happened if you had taken her into the deep roads, and you know that. Just think about it, why did you choose Anders over her in the first place?"

"Anders was a Grey Warden when he lived back in Ferelden. He has an immunity to the darkspawn taint, so it was one fewer person that I had to worry about getting exposed. Besides, he has a lot of experience fighting darkspawn. He was also quite familiar with the deep roads, not to mention, he's a much stronger fighter than Bethany."

"So, looking at the facts, just the facts, did you make the wrong decision?" Sophia shook her head. "Then why are you beating yourself up over it? Let it go before the regret completely consumes you. Don't you want to see her again?" Sophia nodded. "Then go to her. Life is too short to live it deep in regret."

"Is this advice spoken from experience?"

Cullen reached up, cupping her face in his hand. "Sophia, there are several things that I failed to do in my life that I now regret, but I have learned from them." He looked intently into her eyes. "And I don't plan on making those same mistakes again, starting right now."

-0-

Sophia's breath caught in her throat as she looked up into the templar's intense gaze. A thought passed through her mind. "He's going to kiss me," she realized, her stomach knotted up with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. This is what she had been wanting, right; for Cullen to make the next move in the relationship? Isn't that why she spent so much effort dressing up and getting ready? For weeks, she had been so sure that this was what she wanted, so inside, she should have been jumping for this. Perhaps her encounter with a desire demon earlier in the week had shaken her more than she had realized.

It shouldn't have, though. After all, she had dealt with her fair share of desire demons over the past few years, but this one had affected her deeply it seemed. It had happened three days before the ball. Sebastian had come to her quite distraught and had begged for her assistance. Apparently, his contacts had informed him that a Lady Harrimann, an old friend of the Vael family who was now residing in Kirkwall, was the one behind the deaths of his family. Unable to confront her alone, the Starkhaven prince had asked her to accompany him. Varric and Anders were at her estate when Sebastian had come to her, so they along with Aveline, had accompanied the two rogues. All told, it was a strange experience, making their way through the estate, encountering Lady Harrimann's family engaged in all forms of debauchery. Anders immediately suspected demonic influence, and it turned out that he was right. A powerful desire demon had completely ensnared the noblewoman and was toying with her when Sophia and her party approached the situation.

When it was revealed that Allure, the desire demon, had been manipulating the Harrimann family, Sebastian lashed out, shouting angrily at the demon, laying all the blame on her.

"I can create such desires if I wanted to," the demon purred, glancing over at their party. "However, I find it far easier to nurture those that already exist. The desire for power is easy to find. You possess it, as does your friend, do you not," she whispered, turning the full weight of her gaze on Hawke herself. "Don't you have desires you wish fulfilled?"

Hawke stiffened, Cullen's face coming to the forefront of her mind. Shaking her head, she glared at the demon. "Not at the price of my family."

Allure chucked. "Of course, of course, but everyone has a price, even you."

Beside her Sebastian snarled, "Hawke, don't listen to her." "She's trying to ensnare you," Anders' voice added.

The demon turned her attention back on the red-headed prince. "Oh, such a pious soul, masking so much delicious ambition. Don't you too wish to rule Starkhaven?"

Sebastian practically growled in response. "I am the heir and rightful ruler. She is a usurper and a murder. If I desire power, it is because it is rightfully mine."

"It was yours before you swore to set aside worldly ambitions. Yet for all your vows, you still desire them, don't you? Your piety, your religion, none of it masks your desire. It's always been there; only now your brothers no longer stand in your way."

Sophia looked over at Sebastian, conflict clearly warring on his face as the demon continued. "Your people would love you. All those smiles and adulation that they used to save for your brother would now be yours and yours alone. You will be the shining prince."

The demon turned back to Hawke. "And how about you? Your ambitions lie somewhere much closer to home; your desire is within your reach, yet you fear to reach out and take it. You fear the pain of a broken heart. Poor soul, so timid, so afraid. I can fix that. The pain you've suffered in the past, I can ensure you that it will never happen again. I can give you who you desire."

Sophia's eyes narrowed as she glared at the demon. "That is in the past now, and I have moved on."

The demon laughed. "Oh, I am not speaking of the elf though you are not as over him as you believe. He would be easy enough to ensnare, though not nearly as fun. No, it is the templar I speak of." Behind her, Sophia heard several gasps of surprise from Anders and Aveline and a slight huff from Varric. "You fear that his duty will take him away from you. I can make it so that it is not so, that you will be his only priority, his heart's one desire. With my aid, you can rest assured that his duties to the chantry will never draw him away from you. It could happen so easily you know. You support mages, he is a templar. You are bound to come down on opposite sides of some big issue; what will happen then to your hopes, your desires? Will he leave you to be true to his vows? Do you believe that you will ever be more important to him than the Chantry, than Andraste, than those to whom he has dedicated his entire life? You know he may not choose you, and that frightens you. I can alleviate that fear. All you have to do is give into me."

Sophia's heart quickened as her fears were laid out before her. Is that why she had been content with letting Cullen take the lead in the relationship, letting him set the pace? Was she wanting to take it slow to protect herself from the possibility of further heartbreak? It was a tempting prospect, but Sophia's heart knew better.

"No," she whispered, her hand reaching for her throwing dagger. "Because if I let you do that, it wouldn't be real. I could never really know how he truly felt about me, and I couldn't live like that. You can't give me the real thing."

The battle that ensued was long and hard-fought, but it wasn't until later as they were leaving that the demon's words sank in, filling the young rogue with a nauseating feeling of despair. It took some uncharacteristically insightful words from Aveline to help Sophia calm down a bit.

"You know that demon was only feeding on your fears, right?" The Guard Captain said as they walked through the empty streets of Hightown back to the Hawke estate. "It didn't really know anything about Cullen apart from what you feel."

"I know, but that doesn't make it any less relevant." Hawke glanced up at her friend. "You were married to a templar. Did his job ever get in the way?"

"No, but I wasn't harboring illegal apostates," Aveline pointed out with a laugh that was not returned by Hawke. "But think about it, Cullen knows about Anders and probably has his suspicions about Merril as well, and that hasn't changed his interest in you. He sees you for who you are, not for your beliefs about mages. You just need to return the favor and see past the armor and see the man beneath the armor. That's who you're developing feelings for, and if the feelings are there on both sides..."

"Which they are," Varric muttered, adding his two coppers worth.

"Then you two will be able to deal with any other difficulties together. You can't live your life in fear, Hawke. You know that as well as anyone. I've seen you face down a dragon without a moment's hesitation. Don't let you fear stop you now."

Aveline's words had helped to calm her; week's worth of work had distracted her; but having Cullen look down at her with that passionate look in her eyes brought back all those doubts. Before she could step away from him, though, Cullen tilted her head up, and the next thing she knew, his lips were against hers, and all doubts flew out of the window.

This kiss was completely different from the one the other night in the tavern. This one was delicate, tender, but at the same time full of heat and longing. A warm feeling began to pool in her stomach as his hands dropped to her waist, pulling their bodies together. Unbidden, her arms wound around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as their lips crashed together. Though it was clear that her templar was inexperienced, the sheer amount of passion and heat in the kiss mad up for any talent he was lacking. A small moan escaped her lips as Cullen deepened the kiss, leaving her breathless. When she pulled away to take a breath, his hungry lips began to move from her mouth to her neck, nibbling her pulse point gently as he made his way down to her shoulder before making his way back up to claim her lips once more for another bruising kiss.

There, wrapped tightly in his strong arms, Sophia felt more relaxed and at peace than she had felt in a long time. This is where she wanted to be, where she belonged. For the first time since her father died, she felt a weight lift off her as Cullen's secure, sheltering arms wrapped around her. The troubles of state and the pressures from her mother all seemed to melt away as he broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes shining as he rested his forehead against hers.

"So regrets, huh?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Not anymore," he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear then letting his hand drop to trace the curve of her throat. "But if I hadn't done that, it would have been," he added with a grin. He kissed her lightly on the corner of her mouth. "I've wanted to do that all night."

"Me too," Hawke said, resting her head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her again.

"Hawke, Sophia, this is all really new to me, and I want to do this the right way." He tilted her head up to look her in the eyes. "I really care for you, and I don't want to mess this up by rushing into something before we're both ready. So I hope I didn't cross any lines or anything, but..."

Sophia silenced him by drawing him down for another kiss. It was quite a while before they made another appearance at the ball.

-0-

_Yeah! A real kiss. I know you guys are probably saying FINALLY! I struggled with this one for some reason, so I'm glad to finally have it done. I'm not sure I'm completely happy with this one, but I'm kinda sick of looking at it. Let me know what you guys think._


	16. After the Ball

The morning after the Viscount's ball broke bright and clear, though it took quite a while for the streets of Hightown to fill with the usual buzz of wealthy occupants, most of whom had chosen to sleep in a bit after the previous late night. The Viscount's Ball had gone well into the night, keeping the noble residents of the city out far past their normal bed times, forcing the more delicate citizens of the city to sleep in few extra hours. Among those who choose to sleep in far later than usual was Sophia Amell who spent a majority of the morning tucked away in her bed. In fact, the sun was nearly half way through its morning journey before the young woman opened her eyes.

Stretching languidly as she finally woke up, Sophia smiled up at the ceiling, her mind going back to the previous night's events. Everything had changed last night, and not only between her and Cullen, though that was a wonderful transformation in and of itself. Things had also changed in the way the rest of the nobility of Kirkwall treated her. After she and Cullen reentered the banquet hall from their long, rather heated trip around the garden, Sophia found herself inundated with requests to dance, promises of visits, invitations to tea for both her and her mother, and every other proposition under the sun. It seemed that Cullen's prediction had been accurate; Saemus' attentions had sparked a great deal of interest in her throughout the nobility of Kirkwall.

Even the tone of their interactions was completely different. By virtue of her noble birth and upbringing, Leandra had always been treated with a modicum of respect by the ladies of Hightown, but they had always looked down on Sophia herself due to the fact that she had been raised on a farm, not in some fancy manor. Though it irritated her mother to no end, Sophia herself was not all that distraught at being shunned by a few snotty rich women; the sticking point for her had always been the way their sons had treated her. It had been her repeated experience that most of the noblemen had little to no respect for her. The men of Hightown always seemed to either be trying to impress her with their education, assuming that she was some uneducated, backwoods hick who would be impressed by their immense knowledge of history or ability to speak multiple languages, or they would assume that she was an easy lay and would spend the entire evening trying to get into her pants.

The time during her short dance with Saemus, though, seemed to be just long enough to allow the men of Kirkwall to undergo a drastic transformation. Every man who asked her to dance did so in a courteous, proper manner and then proceeded to treat her with the upmost respect. There was not a single off-color suggestion, no wandering hands, and not a single leering glance. It was all Sophia could do not to laugh at the pettiness of the entire situation. Just a moment of Saemus' attention had completely altered the way she was perceived by all those in the room. The only people who still treated her the same were Aveline and her guards and Cullen. The whole situation had amused the Guard Captain greatly as she spent the remainder of the night snickering at Hawke as the noblemen led her around the dance floor.

Sighing softly to herself, Sophia decided it was time to get up and get going, so she rolled over and pulled the cord beside her bed to summon Orana. She had slept late enough, and she needed to speak with Fenris and Varric about this whole Arishok situation the Viscount had mentioned to her. Having lived so close to the qunari in the Imperium, Fenris could not only speak the language, but he also had extensive knowledge of their culture. Varric, on the other hand, had extensive connections throughout Kirkwall, so nothing happened in the city without his knowledge. Sophia had often wondered why Aveline hadn't thought of adding him to the payroll given the amount of information he had passed along to the guard. On top of that, she was sure Varric would be eager to her about her evening.

"Good morning, Mistress," the young elf said as she bustled into the room, Sophia's freshly laundered tunics in her arms. "I'm sorry I wasn't awake to help you when you arrived home last night. I tried to stay awake, but…"

Sophia smiled indulgently at the former slave. Despite the fact that she had been in the Hawke household for over a month, the young woman hadn't yet adjusted to freedom just yet. "Orana, I didn't expect you to stay up. In fact, I never expect you to do that. Remember, you are a servant, an employee; I don't expect you to be at my beck and call at all times."

The blonde elf smiled. "Thank you, mistress; I will try to remember that," she said, putting the clean clothes on the end of the bed. "Would you like for me to draw you a bath?"

"Yes, thank you, Orana. Though, I am rather hungry, do you think you could bring up some breakfast first?"

"Of course, mistress. I believe your mother would like to speak to you as soon as possible, so she will likely want to take breakfast with you in here. She seems to be quite anxious to see how your evening went; though, based on the reaction this morning, I would guess that it went quite well."

"Reaction," Sophia questioned. "Why, what's going on?"

Orana smiled sweetly as she collected Sophia's dress from the back of the couch. "We have seen a steady stream of messengers stopping by the house all morning, and it seems as though your mother recognizes most of the seals on them because she gets really excited every time she sees one of them." Orana tilted her head and looked up at her. "You seem at peace this morning, Mistress; I take it that things went well with your templar."

Sophia cocked an eyebrow at the former slave, surprised that the usually reserved young elf would ask such a forward question. "My templar?"

Ducking her head and smiling, Orana replied, "Begging your pardon, Miss, but you seemed quite worked up before the ball yesterday; in fact, I think you were more nervous than I remember ever seeing you. It seemed so out of character…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made the assumption; it was inappropriate of me to ask such a personal question."

Sophia put a hand on the elf's shoulder. "It went very well with Cullen last night," she said with a smile. "I'll fill you in on the details after I speak with mother, but needless to say, I expect that you will be seeing a lot more of him around here."

"I am happy for you mistress; Ser Cullen is a good man. I'll head down stairs and send up your breakfast."

Waiting until the elf swept out the room, Sophia pulled on a robe and made her way to the bureau, giving herself a quick check in the mirror. Her rumpled hair was still hanging down her shoulders in unfamiliar loose curls. Shaking her head, she briefly considered asking Orana to cut it as she was afraid of it getting in her way, but then she remembered how Cullen's hands had often found their way into her thick raven locks the previous night, in the Viscount's garden, on their way back to her estate, as he pressed her against the wall of her entryway. Grinning to herself, she decided braiding her hair wouldn't be that much of a burden.

Smiling to herself, Sophia closed her eyes, remembering everything that happened the night before. She and Cullen had spent a good bit of time alone in the garden before returning to the ball. Cullen's new-found confidence lead to some rather passionate kissing before Cullen pointed out that they probably should rejoin the festivities before their absence was noted. After that, Sophia's sudden popularity among the male population of Kirkwall's elite made it difficult for them to spend much time together, not until they left the ball. Though many men offered to escort her back to her estate, Sophia left the ball on the templar's arm. Considering how close to the keep was to the Hawke estate, the walk should have taken no more than ten minutes, but it was nearly an hour before they stumbled into the estate's entryway. Sophia, afraid that her mother would be waiting up to grill her and her judgment slightly impaired by the wine she consumed throughout the night, had pulled Cullen into several dark corners, kissing him until they were both breathless.

By the time they arrived back at the Hawke estate, only Philip, the night watchman, was the only member of the household staff still awake. Sophia had hired Philip only a few months after moving into Hightown when Gamlen refused leave his home in Lowtown and move in with them. Uncomfortable about leaving her mother unprotected when she was out in the evenings, Sophia approached Lirene at Fereldan Imports and asked her to recommend a trustworthy refugee to work for her. Much to her surprise, the man Lirene suggested wasn't a stranger; it was one of Carver's friends from Lothering. He had fled to Ostick during the blight and had just moved to Kirkwall a few months earlier. Since then, Philip had become a vital member of the staff, keeping the fires going during the night and giving Sophia peace of mind while she was away. Philip greeted them before making himself scarce, giving the couple a chance to say goodnight. Cullen had pulled her into his arms, reluctant to let her go and bring an end to their night together. Sophia smiled up at him, lightly tracing the embroidery on his sleeves. "I have be the luckiest man in Kirkwall," he said, looking down at her, his eyes dark with desire. The husky tone in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. "For so long, I've just lived my life one day to the next, my entire life consumed with my duty to the chantry. I don't think I ever realized that there may have been something missing until you stepped between me and your sister."

Sophia blinked up at him, confused. "Huh? What does Bethany have to do with anything?"

Cullen chuckled and tucked an escaped curl behind her ear. "Remember the day we first met?" Sophia nodded. "Well, after we had dispatched those shades, I turned to address the fact that you had an apostate with you. I would have probably tried to take her into custody, but that look on your eyes when you defended her, I had never seen anything so passionate, so fiery, so strong. I had seen hundreds of fathers, brother, sisters throw themselves between me and a mage, but never had I seen the resolve that I saw in your eyes. It was in that moment that I realized that you were something special, someone I wanted to be near in whatever way I could."

"But Cullen, that was, what three years ago."

"I know, and I tried for weeks to build up the courage to approach you whenever you would come to the Gallows; then while you were in the deeproads, the templars got the tip on your sister. I knew you'd want nothing to do with me after that, so I kept my distance until I saw you at the docks that evening, staring out at the Gallows. I figured it was worth a shot to see if you'd managed to forgive me."

"Oh, Cullen; I never blamed you for what happened to Bethany. You were just doing your job; I always understood that."

"I know that now; I just hate that it took me so long to figure it out." He sighed, resting his forehead on hers. "I can't help but regret that I didn't act sooner; I mean, imagine the time we might have had."

Sophia smiled as her blue eyes met his warm hazel ones. "No regrets, remember. Besides, could you imagine a more magical way of starting a relationship than this? She placed a soft kiss on his nose. "We haven't lost anything, Cullen. This is only the beginning, and we get to decide where we go from here."

The auburn-headed templar sighed deeply. "Still, I wish this night didn't have to end."

Cocking her head in coy way and looking up at him, Sophia whispered, "You know, technically speaking, it doesn't have to end just yet."

The blood began creeping up the templar's neck. "Don't tempt me, Sophia. I have thousand methods of templar discipline at my disposal, but a man can only resist so much."

Sophia grinned, "Another time then."

"Definitely." Leaning in, the templar caught her once again in his massive arms, trapping her lithe body between him and the wall as his mouth devoured hers. Sophia moaned wantonly as his hands traced the contours of her back through the dress. After several heated moments, Cullen broke the kiss and moved away. "Now I really must go." Taking her hand, he placed a kiss on her palm and wrist. He promised to call on her in a few days before giving her a quick chased kiss on the lips before disappearing into the night.

All told, the night had been pretty perfect, the stuff Varric's tales were made of. Pulling herself from her thoughts, she quickly wondered what to tell her mother about the previous evening. There was no doubt in her mind that Leandra would not approve of her new relationship, though that fact was not much of a deterrent for Sophia; still, it could make things uncomfortable in the estate for a while. She supposed that she should simply keep things quiet for a while until something more developed. Now, if there was only a way to keep her mother from shoving her at a whole new crop of noblemen. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, she hoped desperately.

Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Leandra came bustling into the room behind Orana who was carrying a tray filled with breakfast and what looked like letters. As soon as the elf excused herself to draw a bath for Sophia, Leandra launched into a rather excited harangue followed by several breathless questions. The young rogue answered as clearly and accurately as possible before her morning tea, but it wasn't exactly easy.

"Now, you must tell me everything, Sophia, simply everything," Leandra huffed impatiently as her daughter finished her tea. "I had no doubt you'd conduct yourself properly, but never did I expect a response like this. There are several families here that haven't even acknowledged us yet. So what happened? And don't leave anything out; even the smallest detail can be very important."

Holding back a sigh, Sophia explained the dinner and how she had been seated with Aveline and the representatives of the guard. "Well that was hardly impressive," Leadra muttered to herself. Ignoring her mother, Sophia went on to describe the Viscount's first dance and her first dance with Cullen. "We moved to the edge of the dance floor to watch the dancing when Bran asked me to dance."

"Bran, as in the Viscount's seneschal Bran?"

"One in the same."

"Oh, Sophia, that is wonderful. I suppose all that time you've spent in the Keep and around those guards has paid off if he has taken notice of you. I'm so proud of you, attracting the eye of... Now what is so funny?"

Sophia took a deep breath to stop her giggles at the prospect of Bran taking an interest in her. "Mother, Bran hates me. I mean, seriously despises the very ground that I walk on hates me."

"I'm confused, then," she said. "Why would he ask you to dance if he hates you? Perhaps you just misread the situation; from what I hear, he can be somewhat difficult."

"Understatement of the century," Sophia said under her breath. "So, Bran was just saving himself the problem of contacting me later in the week. Apparently, the Viscount is in need of my services in dealing with a problem. Bran decided to address the issue last night, probably as a way of reinforcing my position as he sees it."

"What do you mean, Dear?"

"Well, to him, I'm just a mercenary who's made it and doesn't belong in polite society. Approaching me with this last night at the ball was basically his way of saying that I belong in the Keep only on official business, not as a member of the upper crust."

Leandra was silent for a moment. "Perhaps, but you have to admit, it had the opposite effect; after all, it did get you noticed by quite a few people."

"It could be that, I suppose, but I'm more inclined to think all this," she said gesturing to the letters on the breakfast tray, "is more in response to what happened next."

"Well, what happened?"

Sophia grinned slightly to herself, imagining her mother's reaction. "As I was returning to Cullen after the dance with Bran was over, Saemus approached me and asked me to dance."

Leandra did not disappoint. She gasped audibly as her eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Saemus?" Sophia nodded, still grinning. "As in Saemus Dumar, the only son and heir to the Viscount himself, that Saemus?"

"One in the same."

"Oh, Sophia, that is marvelous. Why from what I've heard, Saemus hasn't shown the least bit of interest in anyone in years. Apparently he merely sits alone and morosely watches the festivities around him whenever he is required to attend any social event. To think, my daughter has attracted the attention of Kirkwall's most eligible bachelor. Oh, no wonder everyone suddenly wants to be close to us; why you could be the next Royal Consort."

"Okay, Mother, slow down and take a deep breath. It wasn't anything like that. Saemus wanted to talk to me about the qunari, that is all."

"The qunari! Why on earth would he come to you about them?"

Taking a moment, Sophia tried to figure out how exactly to spin this in a diplomatic way for her mother. "Well, Saemus has taken a somewhat academic interest in the qunari here lately; after all, he is a breath away from the throne. It's important that he understands the treats that face his city."

"Of course, of course, but it still begs the question; why did he come to you?"

"I have had success in dealing with the qunari; Saemus is well aware of that. He simply wanted do discuss my experiences with them; that's all."

"So you don't believe this could be parlayed into something more?"

This time, Sophia couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "I seriously doubt it, Mother. I'm pretty sure that he is more interested in…well, I just don't think I'm his type in any sense of the word."

"Oh…oh!" Leandra sputtered as her cheeks turned red. "Well, that is not something you should be talking about. Besides, even if he is…that way, he still needs to produce an heir. Maybe…"

Sophia suddenly became very serious. "Please don't tell me that you are about to suggest what I think you are suggesting because that would be rather insulting, and I'm a bit shocked you would even consider it."

Leandra huffed, indignantly. "I suppose, but let's just see where this goes. Regardless, you did very well last night, my Dear. Now, I believe Orana has your bath ready. Why don't you go clean up, and then we can begin to answer some of these calls."

"Today?"

"Yes, of course; it's important that we strike while the iron is hot, and some of these families simply can't wait."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to do it on your own. I really need to meet with Fenris and Varric today."

Sophia could see her mother's irritation begin to surface. "Really, I believe your friends can wait; this is far more important. Besides, it's not like you really need them any longer; perhaps it is time to start putting some separation between you and them, especially that dwarf. He just seems…"

"Stop," Sophia said, her face stern as she tried very hard to keep from snapping at her mother. "That dwarf," she snarled, "is the reason you are in this house. Without that dwarf, we would be still living in Gamlen's good graces in the slums of Lowtown, so don't tell me I don't need that dwarf. Varric is my dearest friend who would do just about anything for me, and I would trust him with my life. Friends like that are hard to find, so you don't just arbitrarily distance yourself from people like that because they don't neatly fit into the life they helped you build."

"I wasn't suggesting…"

"No, I know exactly what you were suggesting," Sophia snapped. "I know that some of my friends are a little rough around the edges, but so am I. And there's not one among them that I wouldn't trust with implicitly. Anders and Fenris followed me into the deeproads and took a smaller cut because they knew I had to take care of you. Aveline has watched my back and protected all of us since we entered this city. Sebastian pulled me out of one of the darkest period of my life, and Bella has helped me hone my skills, giving me the ability to better provide for you." Sophia paused and took a deep breath. "I know that these people don't fit in to the pretty little Hightown life you have in mind for me, but it's the life I have chosen for myself. And it's worked pretty well for me so far. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready," she said as she stormed out of her bedroom and into the bath where Orana was waiting, a sympathetic smile on her face.

Leave it to Leandra Hawke to end such a magical night on such a sour note.

-0-

Fenris looked around at the regulars scattered about the Hanged Man, a feeling of disgust sweeping over him. How people were able to get completely pissed everyday before noon was completely pissed everyday before noon was completely beyond him; it was only on truly special occasions that he allowed that to happen. He tried to forget about the fact that I would have likely happened to him today had Mathus not trotted into his living room, a note from Hawke attached to his collar. For the life of him, he had yet to figure out how that dog always managed to get into his house, but it was Hawke's favorite way of purveying messages throughout the group. After spending a few hours taking out his frustrations on his sparring dummies and still not feeling any better, the elf was about to break into his former master's wine stores when the massive mabari came trotting into the room. Despite his desires to drink his way into numb oblivion, he was never quite able to ignore a summons from Hawke, even if he was a bit unsure at the moment about his feelings for her.

Against his better judgment, Fenris had decided to patrol the streets the night before, and not because he was curious about how Hawke's evening with that templar had gone. No, he would never admit that, not even to himself; he just felt that an event of this magnitude might attract an element of trouble. He wanted to be there should trouble arise or Hawke need him. At least that was what he told himself anyway. Of course he was curious about how well they were getting along; after all, he had watched as the two humans had grown closer. It was clear enough to him that, physically speaking, they had still not advanced very far in their relationship, but the attraction was obviously there. And it killed Fenris to watch it, to watch as the woman who seemed to consume every fiber of his being, the woman who had become the center of his world, to watch as she slipped further and further away into the arms of another man, knowing that is was his fault, was killing him. Yet, he found himself unable to look away.

That was why, even though he refused to admit it to himself, he found himself stalking through the shadows outside of the Viscount's Keep when Hawke came out, the templar's arms wrapped tightly around her. As they made their way through the streets, Hawke suddenly grabbed the front of Cullen's tunic and pulled him into a dark corner, away from the weak eyes of humans, but Fenris' superior elven vision could see everything clearly. She leaned back against the wall, pulling the warrior against her as they began to kiss, and, even though he knew it was wrong, Fenris stood there, watching as the two humans immersed themselves in each other. After what felt like an eternity, the two broke apart and made their way back to the Amell estate where they disappeared inside. Fenris felt like he had reached into his chest and pulled his own heart out. In a moment of sudden clarity, he knew exactly how he felt about Hawke, but it was too late.

The next few hours were spent wandering around the city as Fenris began to question what he was going to do next. He had always planned to lure Danarius into Kirkwall to engage him on familiar territory, but it had been nearly four years, and there was still no sign of his former master. Maybe staying here wasn't the answer; perhaps he should return to the Imperium to seek the magester out. He knew that such a move would likely be suicidal, but he just couldn't bear the thought of laying languidly about here, waiting for a confrontation that may never happen. With Hawke, at least, there was something to keep him occupied, but Hawke no longer needed him. She had her templar now; she had moved on, and perhaps, so should he. All he needed to do was work up the nerve to leave Kirkwall, to leave her.

That was the thought that led him stumbling back into his broken-down estate in the wee hours of the morning. It was that thought that led him to abuse his sparring dummies until he was too numb to feel the aching in his muscles. And it was that thought that nearly led him to the cellar and into Danarius' wine stores.

Then the dog showed up, and Fenris was sucked back in. Unable to turn her down, Fenris strapped on his armor, threw his sword into the scabbard on his back and headed into Lowtown.

Scanning the bar, he saw Hawke, leaning back casually in a booth, smiling and shaking her head at Varric and Isabella who seemed to be peppering her with questions. Steeling his resolve, the elf made his way across the bar. As he neared, Sophia glanced up, her eyes lighting up and a huge smile coming across her face as her eyes met his.

"Enough, you guys aren't getting anything out of me, so drop it," Hawke said, snapping at the other to rogues. "Now we have business to attend to."

"Fine, be a stiff prude," Isabella said with a faux huff. "I was getting bored here anyway. I think I'll go see if anyone interesting has come in." The pirate grinned, tracing a long finger down Fenris' arm. "Care to join me?"

"I'm good. Thanks."

"Such a shame," she sighed with a devious grin before she sashayed across the bar, stopping occasionally to talk to the other regulars.

"Alright," Hawke said once Fenris had taken Isabella's place. "Seneschal Bran approached me last night with an interesting request." Hawke went on to explain the Viscount's predicament with the qunari as well as the Arishok's request.

"Ugh, I hate the nobility," Varric grumbled. "Present company excluded, of course. I was really hoping to avoid the qunari altogether this year."

"Me too, and you can hate me for pulling you two into this, but, Varric, you hear more about what goes on in this city than anyone else. If something is going to happen, you'd be the first to know; I need you on this one."

"You've got me, Hawke, always; you know that. And just so you know, I'm doing this for you, not the Viscount."

"Noted," Hawke said with a grin. "And Fenris, you know more about the qunari and their culture than anyone I know. I need your help navigating this situation so I can sate every part here without full-fledged war breaking out."

"Of course, Hawke," Fenris answered, then he added, almost as an afterthought, "I remain at your side."

Hawke smiled, giving him a quick pat on the arm. "Thank you, Fenris. Now, let's go see what the Arishok wants."

Fenris nodded, pushing out of his chair to follow her, a certain clarity suddenly coming into his mind. His place was at her side whether he was with her or not.


End file.
